


The Rebel Prince

by delightful_fear



Series: RMS Titanic [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Never Met, M/M, RMS Titanic, vaudeville
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:50:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7615093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightful_fear/pseuds/delightful_fear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is early 1913, and not knowing what else to do, Titanic survivor Kurt Hummel has rejoined a Vaudeville circuit as a female impersonator.  He goes to see a performer at another vaudeville theatre, and is shocked who he sees there...<br/>(The Second Alternative Ending to the RMS Titanic fic, 'A Drop in The Ocean'.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kurt looked up at the tall building with a sigh, and looked down at his suit. What he wouldn't give to have his trunk from Paris still, with the hand-tailored suit and other wonderful pieces. But that trunk was at the bottom of the Atlantic. 

Straightening his navy suit, he knew he looked good. Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the entrance, thanking the doorman who held the door open for him.

The lobby was busy, full of businessmen rushing about and acting important. Kurt kept in character as he walked to the reception desk.

"Kurt Hummel to see Charles Anderson." He said it in an off-hand manner, as if such meetings were commonplace.

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel. He is expecting you. You can take the elevator to the second floor, room #253."

Nodding, he turned to go to the elevator lobby. A sharply uniformed operator manned each one. 

Stepping inside, the operator closed the grill behind him, latching it firmly.

"Two, please." Kurt intoned, and felt the elevator rise quickly, leaving his stomach behind. He hadn't been in elevators that often.

The second floor seemed to have many offices for the hotel staff, and Charles' was at the end of a long hallway with large double doors. Very impressive. 

Kurt could feel a sensation much like stage fright, but even more intense. Would Charles recognize him?

Knocking on the door, he heard a female voice inside bid him to enter. Inside was an elegantly decorated reception area with plush upholstered seating. After introducing himself, he sat down, running through possible scenarios and imaging how he could react.

"Mr. Hummel, this way please." The slim blonde waved Kurt towards the large oak door. 

First impressions were the most important. Kurt lowered his chin and pasted on a confident smile.

"Mr. Anderson, I'm Kurt Hummel. Nice to meet you." Kurt held out his hand to the older man, shaking it firmly. 

Charles Anderson looked basically the same as before. The same sharp hazel eyes, quick mind. Maybe a few more grey hairs. There was no sign he recognized Kurt at all.

Dropping back into his office chair, Charles steepled his fingers together. "So, your letter mentioned wanting to discuss the possibility of opening a moving picture house, and that you are experienced in Vaudeville theatre management. Do you really see these moving pictures being so important in upcoming years?"

"Yes, I feel very confident that they will grow into a large industry, and you'd be wise to invest early in it." Kurt replied, sitting back in his chair. "But I am actually here about another matter. Your son, Blaine Anderson."

Charles flushed a little in anger, before he composed himself, his tightened jaw the only outward sign of his emotions. "What about my son, Mr. Hummel? I hope you are not another one of those flim-flam artists promising to find him? It has been five months. I have long ago conceded to the idea of his body being lost at sea with hundreds of others."

Kurt shook his head quickly, wanting to get off that topic quickly before it sparked tears in his eyes. "No, sir. Nothing like that. I actually was a friend of your son on the Titanic. Special friends."

He held Charles' gaze, steady and unflinching, until the other man looked away. 

Charles rose from his chair. "I think it is time for you to leave, Mr. Hummel." He circled the desk, his jaw clenched tight.

Kurt stood, searching for the words to make Blaine's father stop and listen to him. "I'm not making this up, sir. His full name was Blaine Devon Anderson. His older brother is Cooper and he lives in San Francisco. Their nanny was Fiona, who taught Blaine traditional Irish songs and gave him a guitar before he went to school at Dalton. His favorite book was Tom Jones. And he preferred the company of men than that of ladies."

Charles froze on the spot, his face turning red with anger. "And what do you intend to do with all this information, Mr. Hummel? Talk to a reporter about your scandalous shipboard tryst unless I pay you to keep quiet? Drag our family name through the mud?"

Taking a deep breath, Kurt let it out slowly. He waved for Charles to sit back down, knowing he had his attention now. Still, he waited for another minute.

"I have no intention of talking to a reporter or anything like that. But I do want one thing of Blaine's before I leave today." Kurt said calmly, trying to keep his emotions under control. He had come this far. Just a little bit further. 

Charles let out an impatient huff. "Pray, tell me what it is so I can refuse you and get to my next appointment."

"I want his guitar." Kurt said, his voice clear and steady.

Charles' eyes widened in surprise. "That old second-hand piece of junk? Why? Does it have a treasure map printed inside it or something?" 

Shaking his head, Kurt could see that his request had thrown Charles a bit, maybe even thawed his icy demeanor slightly. "It only has sentimental value to me, sir. Please. It would mean a lot to me."

Kurt wasn't sure where to look. He was getting to the edge of his endurance. It didn't take much to send silent tears streaming down his face these days. He looked at the edge of the desk, trying to keep it together as he waited for Charles' response. Bracing for the worst.

"Alright." Charles said, standing up and walking quickly to the door. "Come with me and we will fetch it from his suite."

Kurt sat there, blinking in surprise for a couple heartbeats, until the words sunk in. Then he practically flew to Charles' side, trying to keep his face neutral. 

They rode up the elevator to the tenth floor together, and Kurt schooled his face to reveal nothing as he could feel Charles' searching glance.

Walking down the hallway, Charles took a key ring from his pocket and unlocked the door. He pushed it open, and waved Kurt inside.

Kurt was expecting dusty piles of Blaine's things, in a musty, stuffy room. But things were tidy and dust-free. There must had been maids keeping this room clean the whole time. It looked like Blaine could return at any moment. 

The thought made tears prickle in Kurt's eyes, and he strode over to the window, using the excuse of looking out the window to take a moment to collect himself. 

He heard a noise behind him and turned to find Charles standing a few steps away, holding out the old guitar case. "Are you sure this is all you want, Mr. Hummel? Would you like his copy of Tom Jones as well?"

"It's not here. It was on the ship." Kurt said without thinking, reaching out to take the guitar from Charles.

Charles let Kurt take the instrument, and watched as he walked to the door of the suite to leave. "You loved him, didn't you?" 

The soft words stopped Kurt in his tracks, holding onto the doorknob. He turned slowly, looking at the older man across the room. The empty room of his dead son. "Yes, I loved him."

Charles nodded. "I'm glad. Glad he knew real love." He turned towards the window.

Kurt suspected Charles was using the window just like Kurt had before. Trying to collect himself before tears came. Suddenly he didn't look like a powerful businessman. He looked like a grieving father. 

Taking out his handkerchief, Kurt walked across the room and held it towards the older man. He accepted it, lifting it to his face, but still not turning to face Kurt.

"I trust you can find your own way down, Mr. Hummel. I'm going to take a moment here." Charles said softly, still facing away. 

Nodding, Kurt went back to the door and picked up the guitar. 

"Please make sure to leave your mailing address with my secretary. When we pack up this room, I may send some things to you." Charles said, half-turned towards Kurt.

Giving a small nod and a smile, Kurt left the room, closing the door almost all the way to give Blaine's father some time alone.

\---

 _Every cloud must have a silver lining._  
_Wait until the sun shines through._  
_Smile, my honey dear_  
_While I kiss away each tear_  
_Or else I shall be melancholy too._

Kurt strummed on the guitar, singing the sweet, simple song with raw feelings that made the audience cheer at the end.

Curtsying, he didn't bother pulling off his wig for a big dramatic finale. It tended to go over better when he dressed to the nines and did a more seductive number. 

He hadn't been in the mood for that kind of act for a long time.

Backstage, he stashed Blaine's guitar back into its case carefully. He had worked at learning it for ages, and still practiced every day. He was comfortable enough to play simple songs onstage with it now. 

He changed quickly for his next act, a comedy routine where he acted like a clueless policeman. The makeup was gone and his hair below a cap in a minute, and he rushed to the side of the stage to join the others for the skit.

"You are getting quite good at that guitar." Melanie smiled at him as she adjusted her yellow dress, making sure it was sitting right on her cleavage. 

Kurt returned her smile. "Thanks." Melanie was someone he'd worked with before going to Europe. Most of his company was performers he had worked with in the past, and he had settled into the routine quite easily.

"Say, after this, do you want to pop over to the theatre a couple blocks over? They have this new singing act which is supposed to be quite funny." Melanie checked her lipstick in the mirror a final time.

Kurt nodded. "Sure, sounds good."

The curtain came up and they entered from stage left, their timing perfected from doing the skit twice a day for the past few months.

\---

The other Vaudeville theatre was just as busy as theirs was, but Melanie knew the guy at the stage door and they got in easily. Grabbing an old program off a table, she scanned it. 

"It's after the magician." She said in a soft whisper.

They worked their way into the hall, finding two seats close to the wall.

Onstage, a man in a bathing suit was being lowered upside down into a wood and metal tank of water with a glass front, his feet locked into stocks at the top. 

Everyone watched in rapt attention as the man twisted and turned inside the tank, working to free his feet before he ran out of air. Just when it felt like it had gone on too long, the man threw his leg shackles onto the stage and sat on the edge of the tank, dripping and gasping for breath.

"I wouldn't want to follow Houdini!" Melanie whispered, as they watched the performer bowing and his team clearing away the tank. 

When the curtain came up again, there was a guy dressed up like a fisherman, holding a ukulele. As he began to play his song, another guy came out dressed like another fisherman and acted out the words. Words that were very familiar to Kurt.

 _Cause her hair was green as seaweed_  
_Her skin was blue and pale_  
_Her face it was a work of art,_  
_I loved that girl with all my heart_  
_But I only liked the upper part_  
_I did not like the tail_

A woman came out, dressed like a mermaid, and the audience laughed along with their antics. All except Kurt. 

He sat there in shock, staring at the guy singing and strumming the ukulele with such ease. Below the baggy clothes and cap, was that Blaine?

Melanie didn't notice until the end, when she was clapping and Kurt wasn't. "Didn't you like it? I thought it was fun."

"I think I know the singer. Can you get me backstage again?" Kurt asked, still reeling from it all.

Melanie took in his expression, and just nodded, grabbing his hand to pull him along. 

And there he was, smiling with the other cast as he took the costume off and hung it up, looking like he'd been doing this for years. 

But when his hazel eyes caught sight of the tall still man, standing to the side, he stopped talking too. 

It was loud and chaotic backstage, and it was just too much for Kurt suddenly. He turned to Melanie. "Get me out of here." And relied on her guiding hand as she led him back out the stage door, into the dark, quieter side street, and down on a bench.

The stage door banged open and Blaine burst out, dressed in casual clothes. "Kurt!" He looked around, and then spotted them, running over and dropping onto the bench. He looked just as shocked and stunned as Kurt did, and they just stared at each other. 

"Hey, man, piss off. This is Peter, not Kurt." Melanie stepped closer to loom over Blaine. 

Kurt chuckled up at her big sister protective instincts. She knew he'd been through a lot, with Titanic, and she knew he'd had his heart broken too. It was rather sweet.

He put a calming hand on her arm. "Kurt is my real name. Peter Lockwood is just my stage name." He turned to Blaine. "And you've been using the stage name Andrew Prince."

Shaking his head, Kurt began to chuckle. Both Melanie and Blaine looked at him as if he'd lost it.

"Sorry," Kurt chuckled. "I was just imagining how many times we've been in the same city without realizing it." It all felt a bit surreal. 

He looked between the two of them, but they didn't seem to be joining with their laughter. They were sharing concerned expressions. Kurt giggled again, and the world seemed to get a little fuzzier. And then went completely black.

\-----

Disclaimer: I own nothing. 

A/N: Here's the second alternative ending to my Titanic story. I hope you will enjoy it. :D 

My Melancholy Baby: This song that Kurt sings was first performed in 1912, music by Ernie Burnett, lyrics by George A Norton. Ernie Burnett, who composed the music, was wounded fighting in the First World War, and he lost his memory together with his identity dog tags. While recuperating in hospital, a pianist entertained the patients with popular tunes including "Melancholy Baby". Burnett rose from his sickbed and exclaimed: "That's my song!" He had regained his memory. It was in various movies over the years. Marilyn Monroe's character in the 1959 comedy _Some Like It Hot_ was a big fan of it when played by a tenor sax. "All they have to do is play eight bars of 'Come to me My Melancholy Baby' and my spine turns to custard, I get goosepimply all over, and I come to 'em!"

Tom Jones: I'm sure you remember 'The History of Tom Jones; A Foundling' by Henry Fielding, the 1749 comic adventure novel Blaine lent Kurt on the Titanic.

Harry Houdini: Born in Budapest as Ehrich Weisz in 1874, his family moved to the US when he was 4 years old. He started working as a trapeze artist at the age of nine. In 1891, he became a magician and changed his name. His big break was in 1899 when he met manager Martin Beck who encouraged him to focus on his escape acts. Within months, he was performing at the best Vaudeville houses in the country, and later toured in Europe. In 1913, Houdini introduced perhaps his most famous act, the Chinese Water Torture Cell, in which he was suspended upside-down in a locked glass-and-steel cabinet full to overflowing with water. The act required that Houdini hold his breath for more than three minutes. For most of his career, Houdini was a headline act in vaudeville, and he was the highest-paid performer. He died at the age of 52 from peritonitis, secondary to a burst appendix. There are rumours that it was caused by a surprise attack in Montreal a few days earlier by an university student who delivered several hard blows to his stomach, while Houdini was reclining on a sofa with a broken ankle. He was in pain, but continued to perform on stage, not seeing a doctor. When he finally saw a doctor, he had a fever and the diagnosis of the appendicitis, with recommendation of immediate surgery. But he still went on stage in Detroit and was hospitalized afterwards, dying a week later. After taking statements from eyewitnesses, Houdini's insurance company concluded that the death was due to the dressing-room incident and paid double indemnity.

Mermaid song: Blaine sings the same song as he sang on The Titanic. It sounds like a traditional song, but it's actually from 1965, written by Saul Silverman & covered by the band Great Big Sea in 2005. 


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt came to a little while later, lying full length on the bench. Melanie and Blaine were standing nearby, deeply involved in an argument.

"No! We are not going to carry him off to your bed when he's in a weakened state like this. I don't know you from Adam and I'm not leaving him with some stranger." Melanie had her hands on her hips and was right up in Blaine's face.

"Well, what do you suggest, then? You keep saying he probably hasn't eaten for ages and just needs some food. Where are we going to get something this late?" Blaine ran his hands through his curly hair, clearly agitated and just wanting some action.

Melanie tapped her foot as she thought. "I'm pretty sure there was a late night diner near our hotel."

"Ummm... Guys..." Kurt said, his voice coming out softer than he intended. He tried sitting up, but didn't make it.

Blaine looked around. "I'll try to flag a taxi down. Stay here with him." He jogged off towards the busier road nearby.

Melanie sat down on the bench, only then noticing that Kurt's eyes were open. "Oh hey." She scooted closer; maneuvering so Kurt's head was on her soft lap. "How are you doing, buddy? You gave us a scare." She brushed the hair back off his face.

Kurt nodded, closing his eyes when the motion made him feel dizzy again. "I'm OK. A little dizzy."

"Andrew went off to find us a taxi and we'll get some food and coffee into you. You'll feel better soon." Her tone was caring.

Kurt gave a small smile. So he hadn't dreamed all that. "His name is Blaine."

A taxi approached, and Blaine and Melanie helped him into the back. Melanie hopped into the front, asking the cabbie for restaurant suggestions.

In the back of the darkened taxi, Kurt simply stared at Blaine. And Blaine stared back. Reaching out, Kurt ran his fingers down the side of his face. "It's really you."

Blaine's grin lit up his whole face, and he cupped Kurt's hand against his cheek. "Really me. It's really you, too."

The taxi stopped, and they went into the diner. Over their late-night meals, Blaine and Kurt took turns filling Melanie in on their story, except the most private parts. Kurt felt much better by the time they were leaving.

"Come back to my room?" Kurt asked, suddenly feeling a bit shy. There were so many questions, things they needed privacy for.

He was relieved when Blaine nodded.

\---

It had been such a strange night, and it all felt so surreal.

Even stranger to be letting Blaine into his hotel room, in the quiet of the night.

Going to his suitcase, he pulled out a bottle of red wine and poured out a couple glasses. There was only a single bed in the tiny room, so they sat down on the mattress, leaning their backs against the wall.

"You mentioned to Melanie that you were injured and woke up in a regular hospital a few days later. No idea what happened?" Kurt asked, curiosity pushing him to ask.

Blaine gave Kurt a bit of a smirk. "What, don't I even get a hello kiss before I face your interrogation?"

Kurt's eyes widened, and he bit back a laugh. Moving closer, he was careful not to spill his wine as he leaned in. It felt a little strange to be near a man like this, it had been so long. But this was Blaine.

Blaine's lips were soft and yielding, warm and sweet. Kurt took his time, an unrushed, thorough kiss. Wanting to continue warred with wanting his questions answered.

"Mmmm..." Blaine sighed, giving Kurt a warm look. 

He looked up and to the right for a moment before speaking again. "I remember the crowd pulling us apart, and the ship lurching. I fell and slid along the deck. Not many memories after that, so I must have gotten injured then." He shrugged.

Kurt wasn't very satisfied with the answer. Obviously someone must have helped Blaine into a lifeboat, or he wouldn't have survived. It wasn't his father, or he wouldn't be so convinced Blaine was dead.

"Why did you use the name Andrew Prince though?" Kurt finally asked, going to the next part of the story he'd found confusing.

Blaine looked a little bemused at Kurt's agitation. He didn't answer, simply letting his eyes dip down to Kurt's mouth.

"Blaine?" Kurt finally asked, seeing if he'd react to that.

Blaine smiled. "Yes?" He sipped his wine slowly.

"Aren't you going to answer me?" Kurt finally bit out, feeling frustrated.

Blaine smiled in response. "Wasn't the going price a kiss a question?"

Rolling his eyes, he wondered if Blaine had found him flirty or just frustrating when he had done this to him before. "Fine." Kurt said with gritted teeth.

He leaned in, giving Blaine a firm kiss.

Blaine leaned over, placing his glass on the bedside table, and laid down on the bed, settling in.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked, glaring down at him. "I'm trying to have a conversation here."

Blaine shrugged. "Well, you aren't going to convince me to be any part of it with half-assed kisses like that." He closed his eyes, looking like he was ready to go to sleep.

Slamming his wine glass on the bedside table, Kurt kicked off his shoes. Fine, if Blaine was going to be like that, he'd kiss his socks off for a full half hour, and then ask whatever damn questions he wanted.

Turning on the bed, Kurt wedged a knee between Blaine's, and lowered his body on top of his. Blaine's eyes opened at that, twinkling up at Kurt and a little smirk on his lips.

 _Oh, he thinks he's got things his way, does he?_ Kurt gave a little smirk back as he lowered his mouth, teasing his lips back and forth over Blaine's. Nipping at them until Blaine lifted his head, seeking firmer pressure. Then Kurt sunk down into it, really kissing Blaine, feeling his arms pull him in closer. Felt a thrill of victory at Blaine's quickened breathing and the way he rocked up against Kurt. Aroused and just wanting more.

"Answer the question." Kurt said, pulling back a little.

Blaine opened his darkened eyes, blinking as he pulled out of his sensual haze. "What question?" He moved his mouth to Kurt's neck, kissing that spot he loved.

"Your name!" Kurt got out, pulling away from Blaine's distracting touches.

Blaine bit the skin near Kurt's ear gently. "Blaine Anderson." He said breathily into his ear, and then kissed down Kurt's neck.

With a frustrated huff, Kurt rolled off Blaine and stood beside the bed. "That wasn't what I was asking about."

With a yawn, Blaine sat up on the bed. "Look, it's getting late, and it's been kind of a crazy day. How about we just go to sleep and talk about everything in the morning?"

Kurt sighed. It was getting pretty late. "OK, fine. But you better give me some straight answers in the morning."

Blaine nodded. He reached down, and pulled his sweater off, throwing it towards the chair. Then he laid down, undoing the fastenings of his pants. Lifting his hips off the bed, he shimmied the pants down and then pulled them off. He was only in some boxers now.

Turning away, Kurt undid his shirt and took off his pants. He considered putting on the pajamas he kept for when he had a roommate share a room, but thought it was a bit much. 

Why did he feel so awkward around Blaine? Maybe it was just happening so suddenly. He'd only known Blaine was alive a few hours.

Turning out the light, he crawled into the bed, feeling a bit tense. He was half afraid Blaine would be all over him in the darkness, but he simply spooned him close and fell asleep.

It took Kurt a while to unwind, but he eventually fell asleep too.

\---

Kurt woke up first, finding himself sprawled over Blaine. Easing back onto his side, Kurt just took the time to look Blaine over.

He looked a little thinner, but Kurt was thinner too. Kurt woke up often to troubling dreams about the Titanic, slept badly thinking about Blaine. He sometimes just forgot to eat.

Blaine's hair was curly. It was cut quite short, and not glued down with pomades or oils. His clothes were normal, working class clothes. Not fine tailored suits.

From what Blaine had said at that meal, he'd woken up in a regular hospital, given a false name, and never looked back. He'd found a way to feed and clothe himself, and ended up working in Vaudeville.

He'd thought Kurt had died, but done it anyways. Was he so desperate to be away from his father and his old lifestyle? Or was he doing it for someone?

Kurt glared at him for about a minute, jealously imagining him with another man. But the way Blaine had been kissing him last night; Kurt doubted there was anyone else.

Maybe Kurt had been so insistent with the questions because he just needed to understand Blaine now. Why had he made such a big change in his life?

Blaine stirred, and opened his eyes with a big stretch. He smiled sleepily at Kurt. "Hmmmm...last time I woke up to your beautiful blue eyes, I almost died later that day. Hope that doesn't happen today too."

His cheeky grin was damn adorable, but Kurt still wanted some answers. "Tell me about what happened after you woke up in the hospital."

"Sheesh! I never imagined I'd end up with Sherlock Holmes for a husband. Can you let the big mystery go for a few minutes and kiss me good morning properly?" Blaine was rolling his eyes and still looking damned adorable.

With a half-smile, Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine, liking the feel of his stubble against his chin.

With a bit of a growl, Blaine rolled Kurt over onto his back. "Damn, you look so good, Kurt."

His kisses were hot and hard, his hands exploring over Kurt's body, one sliding under Kurt's ass to pull him closer. Grinding together.

Kurt liked the kisses and touches, but his passion wasn't coming up to Blaine's level. Something was holding him back.

After a couple minutes, Blaine stopped and sunk against Kurt. "This isn't working for you, is it?"

Kurt nodded slowly, taking Blaine's hand in his to play with his fingers. "I'm confused by it too. I'm so happy that we've found each other again, but there's part of me that can't fully let go and just be in the moment."

Blaine looked at Kurt, considering everything. "Well, your poor heart has taking a battering, hasn't it? First Paul, and then I finally convince you to give me a chance and it looks like I died the next day. You spend months mourning me, and then I show up and expect to pick up where we left off. Your heart doesn't trust me yet."

Kurt sighed, tucking his face into Blaine's neck. "I think you are probably right."

"I'll give you as much time as you need, my love. As long as I can still hold and kiss you." Blaine cuddled in close, kissing Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt nodded. "Yes, I like that."

\---

After a large breakfast, they headed back to Kurt’s room. They both had to work in the evening, but they had the afternoon free. Blaine said he’d answer all of Kurt’s questions.

Kurt snuggled close against him. “Ok, ready?”

Blaine groaned. “What have I gotten myself into here…”

“Nothing bad. Just tell me everything you’ve done since I saw you on the Titanic.’ Kurt looked up at Blaine with his own little smirk.

“Tell me requests count as five questions. So you owe me five kisses.” Blaine shifted the pillow under his head, getting more comfortable.

Poking Blaine in the side, Kurt laughed. “There’s a time to haggle, and there’s a time to start talking.”

Blaine knew it was time to stop delaying. He thought of where to start. “Hmmmm… well, I guess I’d say when I woke up in the hospital, my two thoughts were being happy that I survived, and wondering where you were. It was weird being in a regular hospital, instead of the fancy places I’m used to. I was just one of the numbers to them usually, the staff good, but just too busy to give me that much attention. I had a broken leg in a cast and in traction, and a head injury. They kept me pretty doped up for a long time for the pain.”

“How long were you there?” Kurt asked, trying to imagine which hospital Blaine had been in.

Blaine shrugged. “Time was pretty blurry, with all the drugs. It was a least a month. By the end, they were lowering the dosage and I had more lucid periods. I’d borrow my neighbor’s newspaper and read a lot of the Titanic stories. I saw that my father, Kitty and Mrs. Wilde survived. I looked for your name, and couldn’t find it anywhere. I was so sure you were lost at sea.”

“And you told them your name was Andrew Prince.” Kurt prompted, wanting this story to continue.

Blaine nodded. “I knew if I told them my real name, my father would swoop down and I’d be back in my old life, and likely engaged to Kitty in the blink of an eye. Or some other woman. And I just couldn’t do it.”

Kurt propped himself on an elbow to look down at Blaine. “Why not?”

Sighing, Blaine ran a hand down Kurt’s shoulder to his elbow. “I was miserable over you being gone, and I didn’t want to have to act the part of the dutiful son anymore. I just wanted to be on my own, alone with my grief.”

“Do you think almost dying yourself changed things too? Made you want to live your life your own way, make your own choices?” Kurt asked, lifting a hand to play with Blaine’s product-free curls. They felt great under his fingers.

Blaine seemed to consider this. “It may be a small part of it, but I don’t even know what I want in life yet. But I do know I’m not as scared as I used to be to try it.”

Kurt nodded. “So, once you left the hospital…”

“I still had the cast and crutches, and owned nothing. I had no place to live. But one of the other patients in the hospital knew I was good at reading and bookkeeping, so he set me up with someone to do their books in exchange for room and board. They also gave me some old clothes.” Blaine continued, seeming to relax into telling his story now.

Chuckling at the image, Kurt pictured Blaine in old clothes working as a bookkeeper. “But you didn’t stay there that long?”

Blaine shook his head. “Just until my leg healed and I could get around better. The work was long, long hours with really crappy food and a dirty little room. Really depressing. I started hanging out at the local pub as much as I could to avoid being around there.”

Having seen Blaine in the General Room of the Titanic, Kurt knew he was good at making friends.

“Some of the people I was hanging out with were Vaudevillians, so I ended up being at the theatre more often, got to see what they did. And I remembered your comment about singing Fiona’s old songs on stage, so one night I borrowed a guitar and did it. I could play piano too, so they mostly took me on a musician.” Blaine grinned, laughing at Kurt’s expression.

“So, you’ve been playing in Vaudeville for six months or so?” Kurt was shocked. Stuffy Blaine Anderson had been living the lifestyle, and seemed to love it, for months now.

Blaine nodded. “Yup.” He looked around a little. “So, you are all caught up now, know everything I’ve been up to since that damned boat sank.”

“Why did you pick ‘Andrew Prince’?” Kurt cuddled in, pressing a little kiss to his neck.

Chuckling, Blaine looked down at Kurt. “They asked me my name, and I started saying ‘Anderson’ out of habit. But then I decided to use a fake name, so it came out as ‘Andrew’ instead. ‘Prince’ is from what you used to call me.”

Kurt scrunched his brows down for a minute. “Oh, the Rebel Prince, right. Well, that’s what you are.”

Giving Kurt a little squeeze, Blaine thought about the conversation the previous night. “How about you? You were at your parents’ place for a while, before going back to Vaudeville, right?”

Sitting up, Kurt sat cross-legged on the bed, taking Blaine’s hand in his. “Yes, not as strange a trip as the one you were on. But where do we go from here? Do you still want to stick to our old oath, or should we dissolve it?”

Blaine sat up, his eyes large and completely focused on Kurt. He shifted closer, his hand coming up to cup Kurt’s head before he leaned in for a slow but intense kiss. “Kurt, I love you more than I did back then, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. I definitely want to stick to our oath, use the remaining time to live together, see if we can really be happy together.”

Kurt blinked fast at Blaine’s words. He said them so easily, never hesitating. So much braver in his love. Kurt was much more cautious, afraid of getting hurt again. But still he nodded slowly, giving Blaine a little smile. “I love you too, Blaine, and want to give the rest of our time the best chance we can.”

“Should we talk to our companies then? See which one will have both of us?” Blaine asked, not sure how to approach this. Homosexuality in the theatre community was more tolerated as long as it was fairly discrete, but asking a manager to hire a partner was a big step.

“OK, we’ll talk to our companies tonight, and then discuss it together later.” Kurt said softly. It was strange making life decisions with someone like this. Besides that short period with Paul, Kurt had been on his own, his own boss.

Blaine laid back down. “Well, I think I’ve answered all your questions, lots and lots of questions….”

Looking down at his husband, Kurt’s earlier anxiety was gone. He was nervous and excited about their future together, but he understood Blaine better now. Knew more about what he’d gone through. Loved how open and loving he had been.

Crawling over Blaine, Kurt straddled his hips, and leaned down to take his hands in his. Pulling them up over his head, Kurt leaned down and took his mouth in a hard, intense kiss. Smiled to himself as Blaine groaned, arching up into Kurt in response. He continued to kiss Blaine, deep, dirty, pushing his tongue into his mouth to tease over his. Blaine pulled against his hands, and his body shifted under Kurt, but still he kept him pinned down to the bed for the long, sinful kiss.

When Kurt finally lifted his mouth, Blaine was looking a little dazed, chasing Kurt’s lips with his own for more. He gave a little whimper when Kurt moved to kiss down to his sensitive neck.

Kurt let go of his hands. “Leave your hands there for me, OK?” His eyes met Blaine’s hazel-green until he got a nod in return.

With a kiss to Blaine’s collarbone, Kurt lifted the hem of Blaine’s untucked shirt. His stomach was flat and that golden hue that contrasted so well against Kurt’s pale ivory shade. Shifting downwards, Kurt straddled Blaine’s thighs and leaned in to kiss all over his stomach.

This just felt right. Like home. Even in ordinary clothes and without his fancy toiletries, this was still Blaine. Kurt rubbed his cheek over the warm skin of Blaine’s stomach, nuzzling his nose in, breathing deep, relearning him. His skin felt the same. He smelled the same, tasted the same, sounded the same in his little moans and faster breathing. Kurt could feel his inner tension unwinding as he touched and tasted Blaine. Overloaded his senses with Blaine until it really sunk in that Blaine was really, really, really here… This wasn’t a dream he would wake up from. 

Suddenly ravenous, Kurt pushed Blaine’s clothes off until he was stretched out naked under him, a feast for his eyes and his touch. Blaine was moaning steadily, writhing slightly under Kurt, as he kissed and stroked over every inch of his skin. 

“Please, please…Kurt…” Blaine begged softly, his large eyes dark as he looked down as Kurt teased his nipple with swirls of his tongue and little nibbles that made Blaine arch off the bed. 

Smiling, Kurt rolled off the bed, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants, dropping his clothes to the floor and allowing Blaine to see him naked, knowing he was a little skinnier than he’d been before. But judging by the heat in Blaine’s eyes, he didn’t mind at all. He stretched out a hand, encouraging Kurt to come back to the bed. 

Lying together, skin against skin, Kurt hummed happily. He’d forgotten how incredible it was to hold each other like this. This wasn’t something he had done with his casual sex partners over the years, and even Paul hadn’t been much of a cuddler. Blaine held him like he was precious, and looked at him with wonder, his hands reverent as they explored.

Blaine’s hand found Kurt hard and his slow strokes brought out deep moans. It had been so long since he’d been this aroused. He hadn’t been touched by any other men like this since that last night on the Titanic. Months later, he had let a friend kiss him after a few glasses of wine, but quickly stopped things when he could feel no answering heat, no response. 

His hand went to Blaine, and smiled when Blaine’s groaned against his neck. They shifted to lie on their sides, sharing the same pillow, sharing kisses and looking at each other while stroking slowly. A sensual little bubble where only the two of them existed, and the outside world was miles away. 

\----

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Sherlock Holmes Fun Facts: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle published the first Sherlock Holmes story, 'A Study in Scarlet', in 1887. He wrote four novels and 56 short stories featuring Sherlock over the next 40 years. He is the world's most popular fictional detective, and is in the Guinness World Record as the 'most portrayed character in movie history'. The phrase "Elementary, my dear Watson" is never uttered by Holmes in the sixty stories written by Conan Doyle. Doyle was fascinated with the paranormal, attending seances and conducting psychic investigations. He supported spiritualism and looked for proof of life beyond the grave. Doyle was friends for a time with Harry Houdini, the American magician who himself became a prominent opponent of the Spiritualist movement in the 1920s following the death of his beloved mother. Although Houdini insisted that Spiritualist mediums employed trickery (and consistently exposed them as frauds), Doyle became convinced that Houdini himself possessed supernatural powers—a view expressed in Doyle's book 'The Edge of the Unknown'. Houdini was apparently unable to convince Doyle that his feats were simply illusions, leading to a bitter public falling out between the two.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt took a deep breath before knocking on his manager's door.

Upon hearing a muffled "Come In," Kurt pushed the door open and felt relieved when the older man's dark eyes lit up on seeing him.

"Peter! This is fortunate timing...I was meaning to summon you shortly." The portly man waved to the empty chair in front of his desk, moving aside the stacks of files and ledgers to give Kurt his full attention.

Settling in the chair, Kurt wondered how to make his query about Blaine possibly joining the company. He was saved by Mr. Marshall pulling out a newspaper clipping and placing it in front of Kurt. 

"Have you seen this? Eltinge's newest play is sold out for weeks." He tapped the paper with a long finger before leaning back in his chair, looking Kurt over assessingly. 

Reviewing the clipping, Kurt nodded. Julian Eltinge was the most popular female impersonator on the vaudeville circuit, and lately he had been doing plays, to great interest. 

Mr. Marshall nodded decisively. "Peter, I caught your act last night and I really saw something special in you. A real spark of 'having it', that essential thing of all great performers."

Kurt could feel his cheeks heat up a bit, and tilted his face downwards to hide his pleased smile at the comment. After Blaine had left the room yesterday afternoon, Kurt had been floating on air and had dug into his trunk for a daring gown, going all out with his hair and make-up. The audience had practically sat up and howled as he belted out a sultry siren song, and cheered wildly when he had pulled his wig off at the end. It had been his strongest performance since coming back to America. 

"I'd like to continue my act along that vein, Mr. Marshall. It felt good and the audience seemed to like it." Kurt gave a little closed lip smile.

The manager was nodding, but still giving Kurt an assessing look. Kurt tried to sit still under his gaze, waiting for him to speak.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mr. Marshall leaned forward, his eyes bright. "Peter, if you keep giving performances like you gave last night, I will give you a longer spot in the first half. So, start thinking of a longer bit, and practice it. I think you have enough pure talent to beat Eltinge at this game."

Kurt was speechless at that. A chance for more stage time? A better position on the bill? This could really be his break. 

"Um, Mr. Marshall...that would be wonderful!" Kurt couldn't help but grin widely as he shook his manager's hand. "Oh, one other thing...the reason I came to see you, actually..."

The older man waved a hand for Kurt to continue. 

"A friend of mine would like to join the company. He is very musical, playing piano and guitar, and sings wonderfully. He's been on Keith time, but wants to make a change." Kurt knew he was speaking fast, but his nerves got the best of him.

Standing up, Mr. Marshall nodded as he guided Kurt to the door. "He sounds experienced and we could use more musicians. We can take him on a trial basis for a month, see how he fits in."

Kurt shook his hand again, his smile even bigger, and shut the office door behind him.

\---

"Hey, Bright Eyes, what has you in such a good mood?" Elliott leaned against the make-up table next to Kurt's, giving him a big, easy smile.

Kurt rolled his eyes at Elliott's playful flirty manner, and grabbed the scarf he was touching away from him. Leaning towards the mirror, Kurt applied another sweep of powder over his pale skin. "Marshall said he liked my performance yesterday."

Picking up a pink hat with netting and flowers on the brim, Elliott turned to the mirror to put it on at a jaunty angle. "You were fantastic, Peter. Are you sure you don't need me as a back-up singer or something?" He fluttered his eyelashes.

Chuckling as he applied lipstick, Kurt spared a glance over at his friend. He was good looking, with good skin and blue eyes Kurt was itching to play up with the right eye shadows. But he was also over six feet tall, with wide shoulders, and a muscular frame. It would be hard to find a dress to fit him, and impossible to make him look feminine with that silhouette. 

"Hmmm...how about you stick to the band, Elliott? They love you over there." Elliott was very versatile, good on the horn, percussion and almost everything else. 

Getting up, Elliott took off the hat and flung it down with feigned anger, flouncing away from Kurt with exaggerated motions. _What a ham._ Kurt shook his head after him fondly, and turned back to complete his make-up. 

Kurt had grown close to Elliott since joining the tour. He was fun to be around, and had noticed that Kurt was grieving a past love. As they got friendlier, there were a few nights they drank a little too much and talked for hours. Kurt knew Elliott was a little interested in him, but after one night of sharing a few drunk kisses, Kurt had stopped him, tears streaming down his face at the memories it evoked. He was nowhere near ready to be with other men back then.

Elliott had kept a respectful distance since, but still often joked around with Kurt backstage.

Make-up and wig in place, Kurt shuffled through his dresses, and pulled out a kelly green one. He was determined to go all out with his performances this week, proving to Mr. Marshall and the rest of the company that he could deliver. It felt good to have that excitement of pushing his limits again, feeling alive and challenged, after so many months of barely getting through the day.

\---

 

"Umphhhht!" Kurt made a surprised sound as he was grabbed and hauled into the tiny hotel room and shoved against the wall. Before he could even blink twice, Blaine was crowding against him, his hands curled around Kurt's shoulders as his lips stole kiss after kiss. 

Not that Kurt was complaining. He'd been looking forward to seeing Blaine all day, practically bursting with his news but not able to share it with his co-workers yet. His performances had gone perfectly, getting back into the mind frame he'd had back in Paris, flirting with the crowd, and drawing them into the palm of his hand before his big reveal. 

All that still paled in comparison to having his arms full of eager and affectionate Blaine, his eyes glowing with love and desire as he teased Kurt's lips with light kisses, and then hard, deep ones that left him gasping. When he dipped those sinful lips to Kurt's throat, kissing and nipping on the sensitive skin there, it was hardly better. All thoughts seemed to leave his head, and he just melted against his husband, falling into temptation gladly.

 

\---

"Do you think it will always be like this between us?" Blaine asked, running his fingers slowly through Kurt's messy hair. 

Unable to hold back a contented smile, Kurt pointed his toes and stretched along the length of the bed before curling back against Blaine's warm body. "Do you mean over in a few minutes?" They had both been too eager to draw things out. 

Blaine laughed and swooped down to kiss Kurt lightly, pulling back only enough to rest their foreheads together. "No, so exciting and fantastic. Like I can't get enough of you." 

Wrapping his arms around Blaine, Kurt snuggled in closer, breathing in his scent. "Mmmm...I feel the same way. I hope it will stay like this, but it will probably feel normal when we see each other every day."

"So, should we work on my circuit or yours? My manager said he could probably find a place for you, but we already have a female impersonator, so you'd have to do comedy skits or regular singing." Blaine said as he rolled onto his side. 

Kurt nodded, considering it. Blaine was on the Keith circuit, with one of the most prominent headliners working in vaudeville. Houdini drew huge crowds, but he overshadowed the other acts. It would be steady work, but less chance for getting known.

Playing with the edge of the bed sheet, Kurt looked over at Blaine. "My company isn't as big as yours, but the manager is one of the best I've worked with. He's really impressed with my act and even said he may give me a better, longer slot. There's room for you in the band, if you want."

Blaine looked impressed, and saw how excited Kurt looked at the idea of more development of his act. "Really? What do you have in mind?"

Kurt shrugged. "So many ideas are whirling around my head. Marshall sees me as someone to steal Eltinge's audience, maybe."

Giving an assessing look, Blaine nodded. "I can see it. Female Impersonators in the past used to be comedy acts, big men in frilly dresses pantomiming women. But you can actually pass for a woman, like Eltinge can." 

The idea that his little act to get as popular as Julian Eltinge’s was exciting and a little daunting. Kurt tucked his head against Blaine’s neck, still trying to have the idea settle in. 

“Then again, maybe I shouldn’t let you do this act. Make you stick to singing as a man and your comic roles.” Blaine said, stroking along Kurt’s bare back.

Kurt sat right up, glaring down at Blaine. “ _Let me? Make me…?_ ” He repeated the words with a bit of a snarl. 

Blaine’s hazel eyes were calm and untroubled as he looked up at Kurt’s stormy blue ones. He ran a calming hand down Kurt’s arm. “I saw you the first time on the stage like that, and I’ve been under your spell ever since. Wouldn’t want you to conquer any more hearts and have competition for your attention.” 

Kurt chuckled, and swung a leg over Blaine’s hips to straddle him, lowering down until he could kiss him properly, long and deep. “You needn’t fear anything like that, Blaine. I’m as much under your spell as you are under mine.” 

When Blaine opened his eyes, the teasing glint was gone and he gazed into Kurt’s, letting him see in. Let him see the love and deep connection, still all the more precious for the months and months they had been apart and believing the worst. Kurt could only nod, wiping away a tear from his cheek, before he kissed Blaine again, letting all his emotions out. It was incredible that they had found each other in Paris, on the Titanic, and now in some town in the middle of nowhere. 

“Kurt, I think I should join your group. It is your time to shine, and get recognized for the talents you’ve been working years to perfect. I’ll be happy as long as I’m working steadily and learning more about vaudeville as I go.” Blaine said softly, pushing Kurt’s hair back from his face. 

It was what Kurt was hoping to hear, but he still searched Blaine’s expression to make sure he really meant it and wasn’t just saying it to make Kurt happy. “Are you sure, Blaine? I want to be with you, and I’m excited about the possibilities, but it needs to be right for you too. I don’t want you to resent me, or be unhappy.” 

Blaine took Kurt into a tight hug. “I’m sure, Kurt. I’ll tell my manager tomorrow.” 

Kurt kissed him, again and again, and did everything he could think of to make sure he made Blaine as happy as he was.

\---

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-A/N: 

-Julian Eltinge: Born in 1881 in Boston, Julian got attention at 10 years old for a role dressed in feminine garb. He rose in popularity as a female impersonator and was on Broadway by 1904. He toured in vaudeville and starred in musical comedies, and even had a beauty magazine. On a tour of Europe, he gave a command performance to England’s King Edward VII, and became known worldwide. He eventually was in silent movies alongside actors like Rudolph Valentino. He often would switch between male and female roles, and off-stage, fought against rumors of being gay by having a super-masculine façade. This included the occasional bar-fight, smoking cigars, and drawn out engagements to women (though he never married). The Great Depression and the end of vaudeville put his career into decline and he died at 59. 

-Keith time: Vaudeville circuits were labeled ‘small time’ or ‘big time’. You knew you had reached the ‘Big Time’ when you were with the biggest stars and only had two shows a day (a matinee and the evening show). The two ‘big time’ circuits were the Keith circuit in the east and the Orpheus circuit in the west. Kurt’s company is a ‘medium’ time, one of the better small time circuits.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt sat backstage, digging through his trunk, pulling out various accessories to look over with a critical eye, before putting them back. He let out a long sigh.

Looking up from his book, Blaine gave him an inquiring once over. "Something wrong?" 

It was common to find them together backstage between shows, preparing their costumes and just spending time together. Blaine had been welcomed into the company with ease; his friendly, laid-back manner helping him fit right in.

Biting his lip a little, Kurt fingered the feathered hair accessory in his hands. "I'm just trying to think of a bigger and better way to do my act. Something fresh and interesting to the audience."

"But your current act is going over so well, Kurt. Why change something that's working?" Blaine moved closer, letting his leg press against Kurt's. Although the theatre group was probably aware of the nature of their relationship, being discrete about overt displays in public kept the peace. 

Kurt reached over to give Blaine's arm a squeeze for his kind comment. It was good being able to discuss this together, after being on his own so long. It felt like they were in a partnership, supporting each other. "It works for my act now, but if Marshall gives me a longer spot, I need to do more than just sing and rip my wig off. Something more than other female impersonators on the circuits."

Blaine nodded in understanding, but didn't have any ideas. He left Kurt looking over his costumes, and went back to his book.

Barely ten pages later, the book was snatched out of his hands. Looking up, Elliott was towering above him, a big smirk in his face as he held the book far out of Blaine's reach.

Rolling his eyes, Blaine jumped up and tried reaching for the book, but Elliott's height and longer limbs made that an impossibility. Blaine poked the tall man in the stomach hard. "Elliott, you giraffe, give it back."

Kurt watched, bemused, as Elliott switched the book to his other hand, teasingly holding it almost within Blaine's reach, before moving it away again. He liked seeing them getting along, and it wasn't uncommon to see the two musicians huddled in the corner with their instruments, working out a new arrangement. 

Seeing Blaine hop around Elliott made their height difference more apparent. Although both slim and muscular, Blaine was more compact. Elliott looked practically oversized next to him. 

Kurt chuckled to himself, as an idea popped into his head. "Hey guys, are you free for the next hour or so?" 

They both stopped goofing around and turned to look at Kurt. 

Elliott passed the book back to Blaine. "Sure, Peter. I've got some time."

Blaine nodded too. 

"I'm working on some ideas for my act. All I need is for you two to play around with my stuff here, while I take some notes." Kurt waved at his trunk and make-up table, normally highly protected no-touch zones.

Blaine and Elliott gave each other big smiles, and looked back at Kurt with nods. 

Grabbing a pad of paper and a pencil, Kurt moved to a chair a little further away, giving the boys room to invade his personal area. 

At first, they were a bit tentative, picking things up gently, and giving Kurt little sideways glances to make sure he was OK with this, really OK with it. At Kurt's encouraging nod, their inhibitions fell away and they really started to play with everything.

Trying to keep a straight face, Kurt simply crossed his legs and made notes and little sketches of the funny things the boys did with his stuff. 

Elliott seemed to like running his hands over the dresses hanging on the roll bar, delighting in the smooth glide of the silk and satins, the scratchy lace, the contrasting velvet.

Blaine had an elaborate purple hat with big bows and feathers on his head, and was seated at Kurt's make-up table, dabbing the various cosmetics on his face like a toddler with a crayon and a big sheet of blank paper. The red lipstick was so thickly applied, it looked more like he'd been messily eating it than applying it.

Seeming to find the right dress, Elliot had stripped down to his underwear and was pulling a red satin evening gown down over his head. Kurt cringed at the way he was trying to work it down his body, wriggling his arms and shoulders, fearing the material would rip at the strain on the seams. But his other side could see the comedic potential, as Elliott was trapped in the material, his face covered and arms immobilized.

"Um, could I have a hand here?" His muffled voice eventually could be heard, and Kurt tilted his head at Blaine to help him. 

Blaine looked over his friend trapped in the dress with a bit of a bewildered expression. He was a bit short to yank the dress upwards, and the dress was too tight to be pulled downwards. After tugging on the material in a few places, Blaine finally leaned closer. "Elliott, bend over at your waist so I can pull the dress off you."

Again, Kurt had to stifle his laugh as Blaine, still wearing the large purple hat and messy red lipstick, worked at easing the slippery red fabric from his friend's torso, his expression one of fierce concentration.

Finally, the dress was separated from Elliott, and he straightened up, his hair a mess and his undershirt pulled halfway up his chest. Blaine held the dress like a trophy, looking quite proud of himself, and they both turned towards Kurt for approval. 

Kurt closed his notebook with satisfaction and stood up to take the dress back from Blaine. "Thanks, boys. That was perfect. Elliott, you can get dressed again now and fix your hair. Bl-Andrew, you can sit here and I'll get the make-up off your face." He still had a hard time remembering to call Blaine Andrew when they were out of their hotel room.

Elliott chuckled as he buttoned up his shirt. "You call him Blandrew? That's pretty mean, Peter. He's not _that_ boring" he snuck a teasing glance at Blaine, who was taking off the purple hat and sitting down.

"Hey! You shadduppa your face!" Blaine snapped back teasingly, shaking a fist in Elliott's direction. He turned to look in the mirror, making kissing motions. "Peter, are you sure you can resist kissing me when I look so good?"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt grabbed Blaine's chin, holding him steady as he wiped a tissue with cold cream on it around his mouth. "You better close your eyes, then. Those big gorgeous hazel eyes plus such succulent lips might overwhelm my good intentions."

Blaine's lips twitched under Kurt's tissue, but he obediently closed his eyes, leaning in to Kurt's touch. 

His expressive eyes were definitely Kurt's weakness, but as he cleared off the make-up, Blaine's olive skin and lips were revealed, and Kurt was very, very tempted to kiss and explore that mouth for an hour…or maybe two. They were still finding everything so new and exciting about each other.

Kurt pushed the feelings down, knowing he couldn't act on them until after the evening performance. Throwing away the tissues, he looked up to find Elliott standing in the shadows, a knowing look on his face.

\---

"Have you ever been to see Old Faithful, Andrew?" Elliott lowered his trumpet to his lap, turning to look over at the man sitting nearby.

Blaine looked up from tuning his guitar. He'd gotten used to responding to the other name after all these months. He shook his head. "It's some kind of natural spring or something, right?"

Shaking his head, Elliott let out a chuckle. "It's boiling hot water shooting out hundreds of feet in the air, every couple hours, for fifteen minutes straight. Really something to see."

A look of pure wonder came over Blaine's face. "Really?" He tried to imagine it, and just couldn't. It was times like this he felt so young and inexperienced. The other Vaudevillians had travelled so many times around the country they had seen everything, it seemed. Besides the Europe trip with his father, Blaine had only seen New York and the town where he went to school.

Taking in Blaine's expression, Elliott called over to an older man, who was sipping a beer. "Jimmy, are you still planning on going out to Old Faithful tomorrow?"

The clarinet player looked up at Elliott's question, and walked over. "Yeah, and Frank's coming too."

Elliott nudged Blaine's side. "Would you up for taking our new guy with you? He's never seen it."

Pretty soon, Blaine was in a deep discussion with Jimmy, making travel plans. Elliott gave a satisfied nod and ambled away, his hands in his pockets. 

\---

Kurt waved at the busy waitress, but she seemed determined to ignore him as she whizzed past, her arms laden with plates. He sighed.

"What's got you so blue, Peggy Sue?" Elliott smiled down at Kurt before slipping onto the seat at the diner counter beside him. 

Looking up at his tall friend, Kurt could see he was in a really good mood. Definitely the opposite of Kurt today. He sighed. "Just having a crappy morning and not being able to place my order isn't helping my state of mind at all."

He had worked late on costumes for his act, and been woken up far too early by Blaine jumping out of bed before dawn to go on some trip. He wasn't quiet in his preparations, and Kurt found it impossible to fall back asleep after he had gone. He'd gotten so used to curling up with Blaine the past few weeks. Plus he missed the kissing and lazy morning sex they so often indulged in.

But he wasn't sharing any of that with Elliott. It was best to keep their relationship as discrete as possible. 

Elliott grinned, and spun around on his chair, leaning back against the counter. Next time the waitress passed by, she practically fell over, stopping abruptly to take Elliott's order. He flirted with her shamelessly, making her blush repeatedly, as he placed orders for coffees and large breakfasts. 

Kurt was chuckling as the flustered waitress hurried away. "Don't you feel the tiniest bit of guilt leading her on like that? I had the impression you don't play for her team."

Arching an eyebrow, Elliott gave a little shrug. "You kiss a guy a few times and you end up with a label." His gaze was warm and appreciative, moving down to Kurt's lips. 

Kurt couldn't help but blush a little at the look. Usually, things were casual and friendly between them, but getting a look like that from his tall, attractive friend reminded Kurt that he was, well...tall and attractive, and of that night with those kisses. Seeing Elliott point that charm at the waitress didn't seem to lessen its effect.

Their meal came remarkably fast, heaped with extra bacon. The server glowed under Elliott's pleased exclamations. Kurt just shook his head as he dug in hungrily. At least Elliott used his powers for good.

"Where's your little sidekick today?" Elliott asked, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Kurt slanted a glance Elliott's way before swallowing. "Off to see some natural wonder with some band guys. He'll be back by show time."

Nodding, Elliott finished his meal and pushed the plate away. "Oh right, I think I heard mention of that yesterday. You didn't want to see it?"

"Been there, done that. Back when I first left home, on my first couple tours. Everything was so new and exciting back then." Kurt slathered strawberry jam on his toast. 

Elliott nudged his shoulder with his own. "You're sounded kind of jaded. Are you tired of being in Vaudeville?"

The question made Kurt pause and think for a minute. "Well, the travelling part is definitely tiresome. I'd rather just live in a big city. I still love performing though. How about for you?"

"Most musicians travel and tour a lot for work. I don't let that bother me." His blue eyes glinted at Kurt, and he leaned closer, speaking in a lower tone. "Is it true you may be getting a bigger spot?"

Kurt was surprised that word had gotten around about it, but tried not to show it. "Nothing's been confirmed." 

"Well, I hope the rumor is true because you are very talented. If I can help you in any way, just let me know." Elliott waved away Kurt's attempts to pay, and covered the bill with a generous tip to his fawning waitress.

\---

 

Blaine was already lying face down in the bed when Kurt got in the room. Stripping down to his underwear, Kurt crawled under the covers, cuddling against his side. One of the best things about sharing a bed was having a warm bedmate to rest cold feet on.

"Kurt..." A grumbled complaint came from the pillow. 

Moving his icy toes up Blaine's leg, Kurt giggled when Blaine grabbed his ankle and flipped onto his back, glaring. "I was trying to sleep!"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt snuggled in to steal a kiss. "It's only eleven pm. Too early to sleep." His hands traced over Blaine's chest, admiring his slim muscular frame, the olive skin. 

Blaine's breath caught as Kurt's lips kissed down his neck, occasionally biting lightly in a way that always got him going. "Kurt, I like the idea, but I'm seriously so tired tonight. Remember that I was up really early this morning."

Pouting slightly, Kurt gave Blaine a bit of space. It was the first time he had ever refused sex, and it stung a little. "How was Old Faithful? Did you see it erupt?"

Blaine nodded, his tired eyes still glowing with his adventure. "Jimmy even put his dirty laundry into the vent, and after it blew, we had to search around a bit for where the wet clothes landed."

Seeing Blaine so happy made Kurt smile in return. It was the first time Blaine had travelled through these states. Kurt could remember how exciting and new had been the first few times he'd been on tour. "I'm glad you had a good time."

"My back and butt ache though. The road was pretty bumpy and we had to drive pretty fast to get there and back on time." Blaine arched his back, curving his shoulders in.

Chuckling, Kurt got up and got some body lotion from his trunk. Standing beside the bed, he looked down at Blaine with a little half-smile. “Roll on your stomach. This might help.” 

Blaine raised his eyebrows, and gave little nod before rolling over into the center of the bed. 

Straddling Blaine’s thighs, Kurt poured some lotion into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it a little. Leaning forward, he slathered it thickly over Blaine’s back, concentrating on spreading it evenly over his skin. Then he worked his hands in with firmer pressure, feeling where the tension was, kneading the muscles until he could feel them loosening. 

He was so focused on working out the knots in Blaine’s back, he hardly even noticed Blaine’s little sounds of pleasure, and the way he wiggled under Kurt’s touch. 

Getting more lotion, Kurt was working on Blaine’s lower back, the sweet slope of skin going up to his ass. Pushing Blaine’s pajama bottoms down a little to keep the lotion off them, Kurt was suddenly more aware of Blaine’s low moans, slightly muffled by his pillow. 

The massage was done, but Kurt kept his hands moving, now more light and teasing. Pushing his pajama bottoms down to Blaine’s thighs, Kurt got more lotion, rubbing it all over his ass, and letting his slick fingers trace between his legs. 

Blaine’s earlier complaint of being too tired seemed to have been forgotten, as he widened his legs as far as the pajamas would let him, arching his back up towards Kurt. The sight was too tempting, far too tempting.

Pushing his underwear down, Kurt added more lotion, and lowered down on top of Blaine. His erection slid between his ass cheeks, and they both moaned. Kurt reached under Blaine, cupping his hardness as they ground against each other. It was going to be fast and a bit sloppy, but that’s all they wanted. 

Kurt had sincerely suggested the massage to make Blaine feel better. That it had ended this way was only a happy outcome he hadn’t expected. So far, they had found they were pretty well matched in sexual interest, but he never wanted Blaine to feel pressured to participate if he wasn’t interested sometimes. 

Knowing Blaine was a bit tired and sore from the travelling, Kurt didn’t tease or draw it out. His strokes were firm and fast, sensing Blaine was getting close, and rubbing against his ass in a rhythm that soon had him groaning out Blaine’s name. Blaine found his peak soon after, shuddering under Kurt in pleasure, while Kurt kissed the back of his neck, loving sharing this. Loving their closeness, being able to touch and to be so intimate. 

\----

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-A/N: Thanks for sticking with this fic! It's taking me a while to research for it, but I'm learning a lot about US history pre-WWI. Your continued support is very appreciated. 

-Fun Facts: Yellowstone National Park was established in 1872, the first National Park in the US. It’s known for its wildlife and many geothermal features. The US Army oversaw management of the park until 1916, when the newly created National Park Service took over. The most famous geyser of the park is Old Faithful, so named for reliably erupting every 35 to 120 minutes, with up to 32,000 litres (8,400 US gallons) of boiling water up to 55 meters (185 feet) in the air. Some of the army men used it as a laundry, finding cotton and linens came out clean, but woolen clothes were torn to sheds.


	5. Chapter 5

"So, we are going to be in New York in a few weeks." Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's short curls, loving the soft, springy texture.

Blaine leaned his head back into Kurt's touch, enjoying the casual caresses. "Mmmm... Yeah, that will be nice. Maybe catch up with some of your old friends, right?" He flipped to the next page of his mystery.

Kurt shifted to sit beside Blaine, leaning up against the wall on their bed. "How about we visit your parents also?" His tone was soft, but serious.

Looking a little surprised at the suggestion, Blaine lowered his book and took a deep breath. "I don't think so, Kurt. I'm settled into my new life with you, and I'm really happy. Aren't you?"

Nodding, Kurt curled up against Blaine's side, kissing lightly near his ear. "I'm really, really happy. But I saw him, Blaine. I told you this. He knows about our relationship, even asked if I loved you and was happy that I did. He was really grieving over you."

Blaine met Kurt's eyes, and then looked down, shaking his head. "He could say those things, thinking I was dead. But knowing I'm alive... It would change things. Cooper is out of his realm of influence, but he wouldn't... Look, I just know he'd work on me, make me feel guilty, like I'm a bad son, and I'd get pulled back into his world."

"Even if we saw him together? Made the visit just a short one?" Kurt asked, scrambling to think of ways to make this work. "And just think about all the shows we'll be doing in the East soon. Even using a different name, sooner or later there will be someone in the audience who will recognize you and word will spread. Isn't it better if you contact him directly than him hearing about you being alive from some old acquaintance?"

Blaine sighed. "Maybe I should leave the circuit and join another one, stay in the West. Rejoin this one in a few months."

"You can't just run away from this, Blaine. The circuit managers won't let you come and go like that just to avoid the East." Kurt got up, stretching his arms up to get rid of a kink in his shoulder.

Blaine grabbed his hand, giving it a little tug, as he laid down. "OK, OK...I'll think about it. Now come here and kiss me properly. It's been ages."

It wasn't hard to convince Kurt to crawl over Blaine, settling between his legs, as Blaine's arms hugged him tight. "Yeah, since last night." Kurt chuckled, leaning in to kiss his handsome husband.

\---

With every performance, Kurt could feel the surge of adrenaline when his music started, and he heard the sound the curtains being pulled back. This time, that feeling was even stronger, as they were debuting the new act tonight.

Leaning forward, he patted a large powder puff against his made-up face, and then gave a little jump of surprise before coyly peering over his shoulder at the audience.

"Oh, you caught me not quite ready for my act." Kurt stood up from his make-up table. The stage was set up to look like a back stage area.

"You know, a lot of people think it's easy, looking this good. Anybody can just put on some lipstick and a dress, and that's it. Do you agree?" He put his hands on his hips, waiting until there were some reaction from the audience. There were some shouted voices from the darkness agreeing and disagreeing, along with a lot of laughter.

Kurt nodded, with a smile. "Well, tonight we'll settle this, once and for all. I'm going to take two men from the audience and I'll teach them how to dress up and act, and you can be the judge for how easy it is to be a female impersonator."

The audience lapped it up, laughing and talking loudly as Kurt surveyed the crowd.

He pointed to Blaine, looking scruffy in some old clothes and a hat pulled down over his curls. Dirt was smudged on his face.

Next, he spotted Elliott planted on the other side of the hall, looking tall and very masculine.

The choices got a lot of laughs as the men tripped over other people, making their way to the stage. Nobody recognized them from the band, all thinking they were just regular audience members.

"Good. Now go behind that screen and wash up, and get down to your underthings."

The boys stepped behind screens that were low enough that their heads showed above the top edge.

Kurt picked up some white fabric and draped a piece over each screen. "Here's a chemise. Slip this on."

He then picked up a corset, holding it up to the audience with an exaggerated wink, getting a big laugh. "And I'll pass you a corset to slip on, you can help each other tightening them."

The audience roared at seeing Blaine's expressions as Elliott tightened his corset, ranging from surprise, to pain, to anger. Women seemed to laugh the hardest at this.

It seemed like he got his revenge though, as everyone could see Elliott's face going through similar expressions when Blaine tightened his laces

Kurt kept a pleasant smile on his face, and then picked up the dresses. "OK, now just slip on these dresses and let's see how good you look."

Blaine stepped out first in a red dress. He looked pretty funny, with his bushy, curly hair and a big grin. The dress fit him pretty good, but it was about six inches too long.

Elliott stepped out next, wearing a blue dress, and this one was about six inches too short. The audience loved it, laughing hard as the boys looked at each other, and looked down at themselves.

"Hmmmm...we'll have to do some alterations later. Maybe chop the bottom off this one and sew it on the bottom of the other." Kurt put his hand on his chin, pondering the boys.

"Well, for now, we'll just work with it. Now come over and sit down. Time for wigs and make-up." Kurt waved them over to the make-up stools.

He held up different wigs to the boys until they selected the one they wanted, and pulled them on at the same time. Blaine's was a bright auburn bob, the color clashing with his red dress. Elliott's was a platinum blond pile of elaborate curls, more suitable for Marie Antoinette, and made him even a few inches taller.

Kurt made a funny grimace at the audience, and everyone was laughing.

"Great! Now here's the lipstick and eye shadow... Just apply it lightly for a bit of feminine enhancement." Kurt advised, as the boys leaned into their mirrors, hands busy with applicators and the cosmetics.

They turned around together. Blaine had big red lips that matched his dress, but still clashed with his hair. Elliott had peacock blue eye shadow from his eyelashes to his eyebrows. The audience loved it.

"Ok, now that you have 'the look', time to teach you 'the moves'." Kurt encouraged them to stand on each side of him and then took a step forward. Blaine almost tripped on his long dress, and held it up high enough that his hairy legs showed a little.

Kurt waved to the musicians to start the song. "OK, I'll sing and dance, and you follow the motions as best you can."

Kurt moved gracefully around the stage, shimmying his shoulders occasionally. 

_Oh, I wish I could shimmy like my sister Kate;_  
_She shakes it like jelly on a plate._  
_My mama wanted to know last night,_  
_What makes the boys think Kate's so nice..._

The boys tried to copy him, with hilarious results. Blaine kept tripping on his dress. Elliott looked ridiculous dancing in the short dress with his big work boots, and his tall wig kept tilting to the side. Neither of them was good at the shimmy. Blaine kind of did a version of the twist that got a good laugh each time, and Elliott's version was more like he had been electrocuted.

The song ended, Kurt standing center stage, looking beautiful and graceful, with Blaine holding his dress up, bunched in one hand, and Elliott holding his tall wig in place.

The audience were on there feet, clapping and hooting their appreciation. Kurt curtsied, and the boys got even more laughs as they tried to copy him and their wigs fell off. Kurt sent them both a big smile and a nod of appreciation.

\---

“No, no…” Kurt stretched out his hand to cover his glass as Elliott tried to refill it again, giggling when the wine poured over the back of his hand and onto the table. “Oh, now you’re making a mess!”

Elliott grinned, tilting the bottle upwards again. “Move your hand! I’m celebrating and I’m not going to drink alone.” He motioned his head towards Blaine, who had had a little too much, too fast, and was now lying on his bed, snoring slightly. Other friends, like Melanie, Jimmy and Frank, had left after a couple drinks toasting their success. 

Rolling his eyes, Kurt pulled his hand away. “OK, just a half glass more. That’s it, Elliott. We have to be able to perform for the matinee tomorrow.” Kurt usually had a glass or two in the evening, but there were a lot of empty wine bottles in the hotel room. He wasn’t completely sure how much he’d had, since Elliott was fast to top up the glasses.

“We’ll be fine. We can always nap a bit after the afternoon performance if we need to.” Elliott held up his glass, and Kurt clinked his against it, before taking a small sip. “You were so good, Kurt. This new act is going to be a hit. I can feel it.” 

Kurt felt really pleased at the comment. “Thanks. You and Blaine did a great job too… great physical comedy.” 

Moving a bit closer, Elliott looked into Kurt’s eyes, his gaze intent. “Don’t just brush aside my comment, Kurt. You found a way to show your female impersonation talent, your singing ability, and made it fresh and fun. A completely different act that all audiences will love.” 

Kurt dropped his gaze, feeling flattered. 

Elliott put his fingers below his chin to raise up his face, looking down into Kurt’s eyes. “So talented, so beautiful…,” he murmured. And then he leaned in, capturing Kurt’s lips. 

The alcohol had slowed Kurt’s reaction time, and the kiss went on a few heartbeats longer than it would have if he were sober. By the time Kurt pulled back, shaking his head, the feel of Elliott’s lips was seared on his own. And there was a definite buzz of electricity. 

“Elliott, I can’t…” Kurt started, glancing towards Blaine, but he was still deep asleep. 

The tall man’s gaze followed Kurt’s, and he nodded. “You and Andrew are a couple, aren’t you? You tell everyone that you are just good friends, but you two are always together. Sitting a little close to be just friends.” 

Kurt bit his lip, not really sure how to answer, and had a few too many drinks to do so.

Elliott scoffed, shifting away from Kurt. “You were so sad for so long, supposedly mourning your boyfriend from the Titanic. Andrew shows up and suddenly you are cheerful and performing your heart out.” He got up, straightening his clothes. 

“Wait, Elliott…” Kurt reached out towards him, not even sure what he could say. He liked him, but his heart was taken. Standing up, Kurt was swaying a little as he followed Elliott to the hotel room door. 

His hand was on the doorknob, but then Elliott spun around, pushing Kurt up against the wall. He pressed in close, his lips hard and urgent. 

A gasp escaped Kurt at the unexpected contact, his head whirling at the sensation. Elliott was a very good kisser, and although Kurt pushed at his chest, he didn’t push that hard.

When the kiss ended and Elliott pulled back, there was a devilish glint in his eyes, knowing that he’d gotten more of a response from Kurt than he’d wanted to give. He was out of the door seconds later.

\--- 

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Plots are thickening....queue up some dramatic music...

- _“I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate”_ \- written by Clarence Williams and Armand Piron, and published in 1919. I took some artistic license by using it here, in 1913, but couldn’t resist getting Kurt to shimmy. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

"Sit down, sit down." Mr. Marshall popped up and waved Kurt into the chair, and went to the door to call out to his assistant. "Louise, bring us some tea."

He bustled back into the office after closing the door, settling behind his messy desk. "Peter, your new act is really taking off. I'm getting requests for interviews and pictures from the newspapers." 

Kurt returned his manager's smile, feeling very pleased at the news. "I would love to do interviews. Whatever you want." 

"Your name will be featured on our posters and programs. People are starting to really know who Peter Lockwood is." The chubby man seemed excited. 

Kurt had noticed the crowds seemed bigger lately, and his act was going over well, but he only dared to dream it would take off like this. 

There was a knock on the door, and Louise entered with a tray. She served them the tea and left. 

Taking a sip, Mr. Marshall pondered Kurt over his cup. "You had better train a few understudies for the other parts. People get sick or have injuries, and the show must go on. I don't want anything slowing the momentum we are generating."

"Understudies?" Kurt's eyebrows rose.

Mr. Marshall nodded. "Yes. Train up a couple more people for the supporting roles, and have costumes made for them. I will cover the costs, of course."

Ideas for who he could ask were already popping into Kurt's mind, and he was practically floating with happiness. For Mr. Marshall to suggest this was really proving he believed in the act, believed in Kurt's talents. He resisted the urge to jump across the desk to give his manager a big hug.

The older man stood up, and Kurt followed his actions. Walking towards the door, he paused, leaning close to Kurt. "Your weekly paycheque will be a little higher going forward too. Every night we sell out, I'll give you a bonus." He mentioned a figure and Kurt quickly did the math. And then did it again, just to be sure.

"Thank you, Mr. Marshall." Kurt beamed, shaking the man's hand and then leaving before he did give him a hug.

\---

Kurt's next paycheck was a nice one. Very nice. So nice he wanted to treat himself and some friends a bit. 

For Blaine and Elliott, he took them to the biggest music store in Chicago and let them look around. By the time they left, Blaine had a new guitar, Elliott had an Irish whistle, and they all had tons of new sheet music.

For Melanie, they had fun in the large clothing store, each ending up with new dresses and shoes. The sales staff had been excited to serve Peter Lockwood, and had no qualms about letting a man try on their garments.

Afterwards, he treated her to a fancy lunch. She had been a good friend for so long, and Kurt felt a bit guilty for not spending as much time with her since Blaine had shown up.

"Mmmm Kurt, this is the best chocolate mousse I've ever tasted." Melanie closed her eyes as she took another bite of her dessert, savouring it. Looking at back at Kurt with a playful smile, she licked her lips. "I hope you continued success if you keep sharing it with your friends like this."

Kurt chuckled as he sipped his coffee. "Well, I'm saving some of the money because you never know how long things will last in this business, but it's nice to splurge a bit too."

"Mr. Marshall is so excited about the response your act is getting. He hasn't had a hot act for a while." Melanie had been in vaudeville for enough years to know it well.

Kurt nodded, with a small smile. "He asked me to train two more people for the act, in case someone is sick or injured. At first I resisted the idea, but then I thought it would be a good way to keep it fresh, mixing up the sidekicks on each show."

"Great idea, Kurt. Who are you going to get? Or are you hiring outside people?" Melanie's dark blue eyes were a bit distant as she thought over the possibilities.

Reaching over, Kurt took her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. "I'd like you for one of the parts."

Her gaze on Kurt was surprised and a bit confused. "Me? How? What did you have in mind?" 

Kurt leaned closer to speak in a low voice, and soon they were both chuckling, throwing ideas back and forth.

\---

"Can you come down to the theatre around ten tomorrow morning for a rehearsal, Blaine?" Kurt got into bed and snuggled up against the shorter man.

Blaine closed his book, arching his back and shoulders in a stretch, before putting the book onto the night stand. "I can't tomorrow, Kurt. Frank and I are heading out early tomorrow morning, and we'll be back around noon. He's going to show me a cave with an underground lake."

Wrapping his arms around his husband, Kurt gave him a hug. "Oh, OK. I'll let you know with more advance notice next time." He was a bit disappointed, but Blaine was taking every opportunity to explore the areas they were travelling through. He often was out of bed in the wee hours to go see some natural wonder or other, rushing to get back for the matinee.

Blaine blew out their light, and cuddled back with Kurt. He kissed along Kurt's jaw, a unspoken question in the soft caresses. 

Kissing Blaine lightly on the lips, Kurt murmured goodnight and turned to face the wall. Blaine spooned against his back, soon dropping off to sleep.

Kurt wasn't so lucky, feeling a mix of emotions and thoughts that made sleep impossible. Ever since those kisses from Elliott, Kurt had felt different around Blaine.

Was it just guilt that was making it hard to be intimate now with Blaine? Kurt was afraid of how Blaine would react if Kurt told him about the kisses. Would it change things between them? Would it make things awkward in their performances?

It was so stupid. Just a few drunk kisses on a night of celebration. They meant nothing. Blaine would probably shrug and think nothing of it. Wouldn't he?

Kurt couldn't help thinking about them. Was that all they were? They had been good kisses, and Kurt was surprised at how affected he was by them. Was that why he was avoiding kissing Blaine beyond quick pecks? Was he afraid that Blaine's kisses wouldn't measure up anymore?

Kurt sighed. This was why he was tempted to go back to his old single lifestyle sometimes. No strings attached trysts. Kissing, hot and urgent sex, and no feelings mixed into it. 

And was Blaine even into their relationship that much anymore? It was comfortable, sharing a room and a bed. A handy body for sex and to cuddle. They got along well. 

Blaine seemed more interested in exploring than Kurt, really. Kurt couldn't blame him. This was all new to him, all these places, vaudeville. He had freedom to do whatever he wanted for the first time in his life, and that was a heady thing. Kurt had been in a similar mindset when he left Ohio, eager to take on the world.

Kurt was much more excited about his career now. He wanted to devote all his energy into making it the best it could be. Opportunities like this rarely came along. 

\---

"OK, now how about if Elliott comes out from behind the screen first, so the audience can laugh over how short his dress is. And then you come out afterwards..." Kurt waved to Melanie to step forward. 

Smiling, she took a few steps. 

Kurt turned to Elliott. "What do you think? Should she be acting more like a man or woman at this point?" 

Elliott gave her a considering look. "I think it's best if she moves like a man until she gets the wig and eyeshadow on." 

Nodding, Kurt looked back to Melanie for her opinion, and she was nodding. 

They worked on the scene, having Melanie looking as awkward as possible in her costume, still wearing a wig of short messy hair. She looked like a scrawny teenage boy in a dress. 

Later, when the 'boys' put on make-up and their wigs, Elliott reveals his excessive blue eyeshadow and too tall wig first, getting a big laugh. But when Melanie is revealed, looking like a beautiful woman, both Kurt and Elliott are shocked. 

They worked on it, working in Elliott shooting her besotted looks, and Kurt sending her hostile ones, acting put out that she seems to be a natural female impersonator. 

The rehearsal had gone well, and Kurt hugged Melanie hard at the end. "You'll be great." 

She looked a bit shy at the compliment. "Thanks, Kurt. Can't wait until Blaine sees it. I want to hear what he thinks." She was soon gone, getting lunch and a rest before the matinee. 

Kurt gathered up the costumes, making a pile of the ones he would have to alter. 

It was a surprise when Elliott stepped close, right by Kurt's elbow. He didn't think he had stuck around. "She called you Kurt." 

Kurt's breath caught. _Oh crap. Elliott had heard Melanie._ He shrugged. "Peter Lockwood is my stage name." It was common practice in show business. Even Harry Houdini didn't go by his real name, Ehrich Weiss. 

"So, Blaine is Andrew Prince's real name then?" Elliott had a small smile on his lips, and Kurt didn't like the way he was looking at him. A little overbright. 

Kurt shrugged, quickly gathering up his things, and turning away to leave. He was stopped by Elliott's hand on his arm. 

Elliott stepped close, his eyes intent and his voice quiet. "You might as well tell me, _Kurt._ Secrets have a way of getting out." 

Kurt's eyes flicked up to Elliott's, and he didn't like what he saw there. Jerking his arm away, Kurt quickly left the room. 

\---

Back in the hotel room, Kurt put down the costumes and sunk onto the bed. 

After a minute, he went down the hallway and knocked softly.

Melanie opened the door, and let Kurt enter when she saw it was him. "What's going on? Is everything OK?"

Kurt sighed and dropped onto her bed, leaning against the wall. "You said 'Kurt' and 'Blaine' in front of Elliott."

Her eyes widened, and she sat down beside Kurt. "Oh shoot. Is that going to be bad for you?"

"I don't know what to think." Kurt covered his face with his hands, pressing the heals of his palms against his closed eyes. "I'm really confused about things." He dropped his arms.

Taking his hand, she squeezed it. "I'm here. Talk to me."

"Elliott.... Well, he's been my friend since I joined the circuit, but I think he's always wanted to be more, you know?" Kurt felt comfortable talking to Melanie about this.

The older woman nodded. "Yes, I've noticed the way he looks at you sometimes."

Kurt was glad she'd seen it too. "He noticed that I've been happier since Blaine arrived, and he's said he knows we are a couple. I've never confirmed it, but we've probably been giving out signs if someone was watching for them."

"So, he's jealous of you two, then? Wants you for himself?" Melanie's voice had a bit of heat in it.

Patting her hand, Kurt chuckled at her overprotective nature towards him. She felt like a big sister sometimes and he loved her dearly. "Maybe. You know that night we were all drinking after the act launched? He kissed me when everyone had left, and Blaine was sleeping it off."

"With Blaine right there in the room? And you let him?" Melanie was clearly outraged.

Kurt sighed. "Yeah. I was a bit drunk...but I let him kiss me. I should have stopped it way sooner." He felt the guilt surging up again, on admitting this.

"Oh Kurt," Melanie sighed, squeezing his hand again. "Do you like him more than Blaine?"

Kurt shook his head slowly. "No, but I can't deny there is something there. I like him as a friend, and, and..." Words failed him.

Melanie nudged his shoulder with her's. "It's OK to feel attracted to people who aren't your partner. It's normal. It usually just passes. But if it doesn't, you owe it to Blaine to break things off before you do anything else with Elliott."

"Should I tell Blaine we kissed?" Kurt asked, fearing her answer.

She thought about it, playing with Kurt's fingers. "No, no...as long as it doesn't happen again. It will just hurt him to know."

Nodding, Kurt got up, pulling Melanie with him. He gave her a hard hug. "Thanks, honey. You give good advice." Pulling back, he looked into her large eyes. "Try to call us Peter and Andrew from now on, OK?"

She bit her lip. "Do you think anything bad will come of Elliott knowing your names?"

Kurt sighed. "Probably not. But best to be careful, OK?" He nodded and went back to his own room.

Blaine was back from his trip, stripping out of his outdoor clothes, and smiled at Kurt as he slipped into the room. 

There was a golden glow in the room that made his bare skin look gilded. Kurt's eyes went down the long line of his muscular back, as he undid his trousers and pulled them off. 

Stepping closer, Kurt grabbed Blaine's head and kissed him hard, greedy. Kissed him until he heard Blaine's moan and felt his hand grasping at his back.

With an urgency Kurt hadn't felt for months, he backed Blaine towards his bed, pushing his underwear down. "Need you, want you..." Kurt gasped between hard kisses.

Blaine met Kurt's passion with his own, nipping the skin of his neck as he pulled at Kurt's clothes.

Naked on the bed, Kurt passed the bottle of oil to Blaine, using their own signal for what he wanted. Blaine poured some into his hand before reaching between Kurt's legs.

Soon, Kurt was begging for him, needing him. Wanting Blaine to take him, claim him. It was rough and fast, in a way it hadn't been for months. Kurt kissed Blaine again and again, wanting his lips to wipe away the feel of any others. Wanting every sense to be full of Blaine, and only Blaine. 

When they cuddled up afterwards, panting and sated, Blaine rubbed his hand back and forth along Kurt's back. Wondering what had made Kurt like this. It had been fantastic, but seemed out of place, and a bit troubling.

\---

\- Disclaimer: I own nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt gave his best come hither look to the audience, and shimmied his shoulders, and then gave a challenging look over at Melanie.

She looked great, in a ice blue dress with black trim, that showed off every curve. Her wig was swoops of loose blond curls pinned up to flatter her pretty face. Light eyeshadow and lipstick enhanced her natural feminine beauty. 

Meeting Kurt's glare with one of her own, she turned back to the audience and did a shoulder shimmy just as good as his. The audience hooted in appreciation. 

Not to be outdone, Elliott clomped between them in his work boots, and did his own version of the shimmy, which resembled a seizure more than a dance. His wig tilted dramatically to the side, and the audience was laughing hard as Kurt finished singing the song.

Moments later, they were bowing and curtsying to the happy crowd. 

As soon as the curtain came down, Kurt was hugging Melanie tight. "That was so incredible! You were perfect." It had gone over even better than he dare hope. 

Melanie was glowing at the praise, looking a little breathless. "Thanks, Peter. There were still some rough patches that need rehearsal."

Pulling off his wig, Elliott shook his head. "I agree with Peter. It was great."

They headed backstage to remove the costumes, reviewing the act. After so many years in the business, they knew how to work on an act until it was tight and perfect. Kurt nodded along with their suggestions, agreeing with most things. 

Pulling her off to the side, Kurt spoke to Melanie in a quiet voice. "Thanks for saving the act today. You stepped in at the last minute like that when you weren't supposed to be onstage until we had rehearsed a few more times."

"The show must go on." Melanie squeezed Kurt's arm. "So, why isn't Andrew here for the show?"

Kurt sighed, feeling worried again. "I don't know. He left early with Frank to check out some waterfall. They should have been back by noon."

"It's probably just car trouble or something. He better be back for the evening show, though. Mr.Marshall will kick him off the circuit if he is late or missing shows." Melanie helped Kurt stow away the wigs and hang up the costumes.

Kurt worked quickly, still feeling anxious and worried. Things had been so weird between them lately, and Blaine had been taking off more and more often with Frank on these little side trips. He was exhausted in the evenings, from getting up so early, and usually headed to bed right after the late show ended.

Kurt found he needed to wind down after the late show, always pouring so much energy into that performance in particular. He hung out backstage with the other performers, sharing a few drinks and laughs. Sometimes he worked on costumes. But whatever he did, he made sure he wasn't alone with Elliott.

They had mostly gone back to a friendly, working relationship. Kurt was careful to keep it professional between them. Elliott was a great performer in the act, and always eager to do anything to make it as good as it could be. Kurt really appreciated it. There was the odd, lingering look from him, but Kurt ignored them, hoping that would be a clear enough signal that he wasn't interested.

\---

The door crashed open, and Kurt jerked awake from his nap. Blaine was standing in the doorway, looking very muddy and tired.

Kurt was up and hugging him tight in an instant. "Blaine, Blaine...what happened? I've been so worried."

Blaine shut the door, groaning, as he kicked off his muddy boots. "Frank and I ran into the worst spell of bad luck. Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, they did. Again and again."

Tugging at Blaine's muddy coat, Kyrt peeled it off his husband. "Well, how about you tell me all about it while we get you into a nice, hot bath?"

Flashing a grateful, but tired smile, Blaine nodded. He started working on the buttons of his shirt, as Kurt undid his trousers, pulling them down and off, along with his socks. Everything was soaked through with cold, wet mud.

In only his underwear, Blaine went down to the bathroom, shivering slightly as Kurt ran the hot water. Pretty soon, he was sighing as he soaked in the water, heat finally seeping down to his bones. "It started off by us getting a bit lost, missing a turn off. We had to circle around, and that took awhile. We finally got to the waterfall, and it was pretty wimpy, barely a trickle. Not worth the long drive, at all."

Kurt got Blaine to dunk his head into the water, and then sat on the edge to lather up his curls with shampoo. 

Blaine closed his eyes, groaning at the sensation. "Then as we were rushing back, already late from getting lost earlier, we got a flat tire. Neither of us had ever changed a tire before, so it took a while to figure it out. By the time I jacked the car up, it started raining. Everything got slippery and muddy and it took even longer to get the damn tire in place."

Rinsing the soap from Blaine with a cup, Kurt chuckled at the story. "That sounds awful."

"We were both cold and wet the whole ride back, and we missed lunch too. I'm starving." Blaine looked up at Kurt, looking like a little lost boy with his fresh-scrubbed face and wet hair. 

Chuckling, Kurt got up. He looked at his own clothes, smeared with mud here and there from hugging Blaine earlier. "Well, how about you stay here and soak a bit longer while I change and get some food? Maybe some soup and big sandwiches, OK?"

Blaine nodded happily, and Kurt couldn't resist leaning down to give him a lingering kiss. "I'm glad you are alright, Blaine. I was worried." After Titanic, the thought of anything happening to him made Kurt's heart clench with the memory of all those months of grief and missing him.

\---

An hour later, they were cuddled in bed, warm and with full bellies. "It's a good thing I trained up understudies like Mr. Marshall suggested. Melanie did a good job today."

Blaine yawned, snuggling back against Kurt, the little spoon. "I'm glad. Could she go on for me tonight too? I'm so exhausted."

The request made sense, but it still pricked Kurt a little. It wasn't the first time Blaine had shown resistance to performing in the group. A few times he had been late, coming back with Frank, and Kurt had decided to only use Blaine for evening shows, going forward.

"Maybe I should just find someone to replace you, Blaine. Let you just go back to just being a musician." Kurt said with a bit of pique.

But Blaine was too sleepy to pick up in it. "Oh, that would be great, Kurt. Thanks."

Kurt could tell he'd fallen asleep, and let him. The show was in a couple hours and he needed to be alert for it. Turning onto his back, Kurt stared at the ceiling. Although Blaine supported Kurt's act, he didn't want to be a part of it. It seemed a bit crazy to Kurt, who had always been eager for any chance to perform, any chance to be in front of an audience.

Blaine enjoyed performing, but it wasn't deep in his blood, his bones, like it was for most of the Vaudevillains. He hadn't struggled to do it like they had. Even Melanie and Elliott and Frank had the performance drive in them, like Kurt did. 

It was just another thing they didn't have in common. Months had passed since they had reunited and they got on well, but was this all there was to it? If Blaine wasn't part of the act, that would be even more time they would spend apart, and he would spend with Elliott. Share with Elliott.

Elliott who was always ready and eager to work on the act, to be onstage. Kurt could see how excited he was by the act's success, that they were selling out more often. He was full of good ideas to make it better, and a good performer. Generous onstage to the others, making sure they shone too.

It felt like even though Kurt shared a room with Blaine, they didn't share much time together. He was often in his trips, or planning them. Kurt was rehearsing, working on costumes. Blaine was up early, Kurt was up late. Even sex was less frequent lately. 

Kurt sighed. Maybe this wasn't meant to be. It had run it's course. Today, when he had been so worried, was that just the old feelings from the Titanic rearing up again? 

Looking down at Blaine, Kurt ran his fingers through his soft curls. His face looked peaceful and sweet, and Kurt could feel the love was still there. 

Yes, they were finding their way in this life together, and they wouldn't always want to do the same things. Wouldn't always be interested in the same things. But it didn't mean they couldn't support each other, give each other room to explore the interests. It would be stifling otherwise. 

Blaine shifted under Kurt's touch, turning to press his lips against his palm. Glancing at the pocket watch on the side table, Kurt could see an hour had passed. Blaine looked more himself from the sleep.

"Come here." Blaine tugged Kurt closer, wrapping him tight in his arms. "I love you so much, Kurt."

His whisper went straight to Kurt's heart, and Kurt squeezed him back. "I love you too, Blaine Devon Anderson." Saying it brought back memories of their hand fasting oaths, and Kurt leaned closer to capture Blaine's lips in a tender kiss.

"Have you ever been to Niagara Falls, Blaine?" Kurt pulled back to ask, his eyes searching Blaine's hazel ones.

Blaine shook his head, still looking a bit sleepy and damn adorable. "No, never."

Kurt chuckled. "It's in your home state and everything! Well, you went to a disappointing waterfall today, so I think the next one you see should be the most powerful one in the world. We could go on our day off, spend the whole day. Maybe stay the night."

"Like a Honeymoon?" Blaine chuckled. It was such a common place for couples to Honeymoon, it was kind of a cliche. 

Kurt knew it was cheesy, but he didn't care. He just wanted time together, just the two of them. Time to reconnect. "Why not? We never had one, did we?"

Blaine nodded, a wide smile spreading over his face. "Let's do it, Kurt. Make it as special as we can."

"I think the circuit is near there in a couple weeks. This gives us time to make lots of plans." Kurt grinned back. 

About to hop out of the bed, excited about the idea, Kurt was stopped by Blaine's hands. Pulling him back down in the bed. Blaine's kiss was hot and deep, and Kurt eagerly moaned, sinking into it. Shifting on the bed, they were soon tangled up together, tugging at each other's clothes.

\---

-Disclaimer: I own nothing. 

-A/N: Thanks for reading this long series! I think there will be two chapters more. :)


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt awoke with a start, wondering what had stirred him, and looked over at his alarm clock, ticking away on the nightstand. It was too early for it to have been his alarm.

A quick glance around the room confirmed Blaine was already gone, his thick coat and boots with him.

A light tapping on the door made Kurt realize what the original sound must have been.

Stretching as he rolled out of bed, he slipped his robe on before opening the door a crack.

"Elliott? What are you doing here?" Kurt was surprised and a bit embarrassed. His hair was sticking up probably, and he likely had awful morning breath.

Holding up coffee cups, Elliott smiled back. "Open up. I brought you breakfast."

He looked so good, his bright blue eyes cheerful and a friendly smile on his handsome face, Kurt found himself nodding. "OK, OK. Just give me a minute or two, alright?"

Elliott nodded, and didn't seem to mind when Kurt closed the hotel room door.

Looking around, Kurt picked up some dirty clothes from the floor and piled them beside Blaine's suitcase. He pulled the bedcovers quickly into place and then splashed water on his face to freshen up a little. His hair wasn't too bad, just needing a combing and a bit of water to tame a few areas. He slipped on some casual clothes and was soon opening the door to allow Elliott in.

Elliott looked at the two beds, one hastily made and the other obviously untouched, and just gave Kurt a knowing look. Setting the coffees down onto the nightstand, he reached into a pocket of his winter coat and pulled out a paper bag.

"There's a great bakery in this town. Whenever I'm here, I pick up some Danishes and Butterhorns."

The pastry he offered to Kurt did look delicious. He didn't indulge in sweets that often, but these looked like they were worth bending his rules for. The Danish he picked up was still slightly warm.

Elliott took a long sip of his coffee, closing his eyes as he hummed in appreciation of the taste. Kurt was not immune to how good he looked. They had been spending a lot of time together, performing and perfecting the show, and Kurt couldn't deny that he'd been feeling the pull of attraction, as much as he resisted it.

Settling down on the unused bed, Elliott kicked off his shoes and leaned back against the wall. Kurt mirrored him on the other bed, both of them enjoying the baked goods and their hot beverages. Being in the northeast states lately, they had noticed the cold weather more. Hot coffee on a cold wintery morning was treasured.

"So, Andrew is off on another adventure?" Elliott asked as he wiped a napkin over his mouth.

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, I think it was some battleground or something. Apparently there are some old ruins there." He was losing track of all the places Blaine went off to. Finishing his breakfast, Kurt put his empty cup on the nightstand.

Elliott got off his bed, and stretched. Kurt followed the motions, noticing his tall frame, and slim body. But then Elliott sank down onto the bed beside Kurt, looking down at his face, so close.

"Elliott, no... We can't..." Kurt said softly, holding up his hands in case his friend moved closer.

The tall man's eyes were on Kurt's lips, and then flicked up, showing the heat in his. "Why not? Can't you feel the connection we have, Kurt?" He deliberately used Kurt's real name, not Peter, his voice a sexy drawl that sent a shiver of awareness along Kurt's skin.

He was close, looking so good, smelling fresh and wonderful. It was a quiet morning, and they were all alone together. It would be so, so easy... Just to lean closer and be carried away with Elliott's kisses. Kisses that would surely lead to more, more that Kurt was curious about, wanted. He wanted Elliott.

Getting up quickly before he could change his mind and give in to the temptation, Kurt paced around the room. "Elliott, I do care about you as a friend. But I know you know about Andrew and me. You know we can't do anything else."

Scoffing, Elliott shifted to sit on the edge of the bed. "Yes, I know about you and _Blaine_." His look was challenging as he stressed Blaine's real name. “Kurt, what are you doing with him?”

Kurt stopped pacing and turned to stare at Elliott, his eyebrows lifted in surprise at the direct question. 

Elliott got up. “Look, I know you two get along really well, and you have history together. But look at you now.” He looked pointedly around the room, empty except the two of them. He took a step closer, coming to stand right in front of Kurt. “If you were my man, I wouldn’t be running all around the countryside every chance I got. I’d be with you every second you let me, because you are amazing, Kurt.” 

Standing this close, Kurt had to tilt his face up to look at Elliott, and he could see that he was genuine in what he was saying, and there was real caring in his eyes. Kurt felt the pull of attraction to him, but it still felt wrong. He took a step back, looking down. 

“Elliott, there’s a lot you don’t know…” Kurt ran a hand through his hair, sighing at the situation. He wanted to stay friends with Elliott, but things had a potential to get really, really messy here.

Scoffing, the taller man pivoted on his heel, and walked to the window, looking out at the snowy street scene. He turned and leaned back against the windowsill. “You mean that you were on the Titanic with Blaine? And it must be fate that you both survived and found each other again?” Elliott shook his head slowly. “I did my research on the Titanic passengers, and the only Blaine listed is Blaine Anderson, a first class passenger who was sailing with his very wealthy father, Charles Anderson. Blaine apparently didn’t survive the trip.”

Kurt’s breath caught in his throat, and he tried to keep his expression from betraying anything. He forced out a scoff. “That doesn’t mean anything. Newspaper get things wrong. I was on that ship and you don’t find either of my names on any of the newspaper reports.”

Nodding, Elliott stood and walked slowly towards Kurt, his eyes pinning him. “Hmmmm…I wonder what would happen if some little birdie told Charles Anderson that his son Blaine survived the disaster, and told him when he would be performing in New York. Do you think Daddy Dearest would show up and drag your boyfriend back with him, back to his fancy lifestyle?” 

_No. He wouldn’t. Would he?_ Kurt searched Elliott’s eyes to see if he really meant he would do such a thing. Would he really try to get Blaine out of the picture that way? 

Elliott’s hands came to rest on Kurt’s shoulders, giving him a small smile, the flirty, charming look back on his face. “I just want you to take a long, hard look at the bigger picture, Kurt. Look at the two of us. We both came from poor families who struggled to pay the day-to-day bills. We worked hard for our whole lives, every day, every step of the way. And now that you are finally getting some well-deserved recognition, you aren’t going to take it for granted.”

Kurt couldn’t argue with that. He knew that show business was fickle, and you had to take opportunities as they came.

“I’m here with you, Kurt. Working beside you, making your act better, supporting you. I know how hard you’ve worked and that you deserve this success.” Elliott’s smile widened, and became warmer. Kurt’s eyes were drawn to it. “Compare that to Blaine. He’s off doing his own thing, when he should be a good partner, helping you. Instead, he’s dropped out of the act entirely! How long before he gets bored of slumming with us, and goes back to his old life?” 

The words were too close to things Kurt was trying to avoid thinking about. Ever since Blaine had asked to go back to being just a musician, Kurt had felt a little betrayed about it. His gaze dropped, and he looked away. 

“He takes you for granted, Kurt. He doesn’t see how amazing you are. He isn’t treating you right.” Elliott’s voice was barely a whisper, but Kurt couldn’t help but look back at him. “I want to be with you, Kurt. I think you are talented, beautiful, smart and so damn sexy. We’d be so good together, professionally and personally.”

Kurt was so confused; his mind seemed to just be a whirl. 

But it got ten times worse when Elliott stepped closer, his arms going around Kurt, holding him firmly as his head dropped to catch Kurt’s lips. The kiss was confident, thorough, and hotter than any of the other quick ones Elliott had stolen before. It was a kiss meant to show Kurt just how good they could be together.

Kurt felt it all over. The zing of awareness and he wanted more. Wanted Elliott. Wanted the excitement of a new lover, hungry and appreciative. 

It took everything to step back, trying to catch his breath, regain his composure. “Elliott, get out, and never come back to my hotel room ever again.” He tried to sound firm and commanding, tried to steel his eyes as he stared down the tall, attractive man. A man smirking down at him, probably seeing through it all. 

Kurt huffed and strode over to the door, flinging it open. “Leave. Now.” He waited until Elliott sauntered out, before slamming the door closed behind him and locking it. 

\---

As soon as they finished their matinee performance, Melanie was pulling Kurt to the side. "What's going on, Kurt? Your performance was OK, but I could tell something was a little off."

Taking her arm, he pulled her into a dark corner of the backstage, looking around to make sure they were alone before whispering to her. "Elliott came on to me again this morning. He was saying all sorts of things about he is better for me than Blaine is."

Melanie's blue eyes were full of concern as she rubbed her hands along his upper arms in comfort. "Oh Kurt, no wonder you were feeling distracted, having to perform with him now."

"Mr. Marshall wants me to train up another understudy, and I think I'll train him with you. Would that be OK?" It would probably be for the best if he spent less time around Elliott for a while.

She nodded. "Sure, we can do that. You know I love being part of your act." She gave Kurt a long hug, and he sank into her embrace. At least he knew she didn't have ulterior motives to be around him.

Kurt looked around again when they pulled back. "Elliott says he's interested in me, but I wonder if he just is trying to ingratiate himself. He could just be holding onto my coattails, as I get more successful. And then he kind of hinted that he could reveal Blaine's past."

Melanie's eyes widened in shock. She didn't know Blaine's history that well, but understood it would be bad if it got out. "What are you going to do?"

Kurt straightened up, pulling his clothing in place. "We leave for Niagara Falls in a couple days. We will have to talk it all out. Together."

He just hoped the little vacation would go well, and they got back to be as close as they used to be. Blaine seemed to be drifting further away lately. Could this trip pull him back in?

\---

 

"I'd like your best view of the falls, with an adjoining room for my manservant here." Kurt hadn't used his posh, British accent for a while, but it still seemed to work.

The hotel clerks smiled at him broadly, and then scanned over their paperwork. "We have the perfect room for you, Mister..."

"Wright, Archibald Wright." Kurt stripped off his gloves, and passed them to Blaine to hold. As the clerk did his work, he unbuttoned his thick winter coat, and unwrapped his scarf. He passed it back to Blaine as well.

Blaine stood deferentially a couple steps back, their luggage resting near his feet. Kurt's scarf draped over his arm neatly, his posture attentive. Kurt was tempted to smile and nod in approval, but didn't want to break character.

Soon, a bellboy was carrying their luggage and leading them to the elevators. The hotel was massive and luxurious. As they rode the elevator, Blaine helped Kurt slip off his coat, and draped it over his arm.

Kurt's room was gorgeous, with large windows overlooking the river and a distant view of the falls. It was a winter wonderland, so much snow and ice covering the scene in its seasonal beauty.

The bellboy set down the luggage, and showed them the adjoining room for Blaine. It was a small, simple room with a single bed and a small window.

Kurt handed a tip to the bellboy. "This is perfect. Would you please arrange for tea to be sent up?"

The man in his crisp uniform nodded, and shut the door behind him as he left.

Turning towards Blaine, Kurt noticed he had his coat off now, and was looking with wonder out the windows. He stepped closer, hugging Blaine tightly from behind. "It's incredible, isn't it?"

Nodding, Blaine turned in Kurt's arms, draping his own around his waist in a casual hug. "The most amazing thing I've ever seen." He leaned closer, resting his forehead against Kurt's, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. "Apart from you, that is."

Kurt grinned back, and moved closer to kiss Blaine lightly. But Blaine's arms tightened, and the kiss deepened.

A firm knock on the door had them springing apart, looking at each other like they had been caught for a second, before giggling.

Kurt waved towards the door. "Bartholomew, would you get that?" He used his British accent with a bit of the smirk at Blaine.

"Yes, sir." Blaine's attempt at the accent was awful, but he answered the door, waving in the servant with the tea tray. He set it on the low table near the window, and was quickly gone.

They settled in the plush sofa, sipping their tea. "So, what do you want to do here?"

Kurt shrugged. "Wander around and see what we can of the falls. Have a fancy dinner with you. Just have time with you, really."

Blaine's hazel eyes were soft as they held Kurt's. He shifted closer, until his thigh pressed against his. "This was a good idea. I've missed our time together."

Taking his hand, Kurt smiled back. The drive up had been nice. Pretty scenery and singing together cheerfully the whole way, both excited about the trip.

Looking at Blaine like this, far away from their day-to-day worries, Kurt could feel the pull of love and attraction to this wonderful man. His man.

Setting down his cup, Kurt placed a hand along Blaine's jaw, and kissed him softly, sweetly. Letting his feeling come out with it. Blaine returned the kisses, slow and unhurried. Enjoying each other, savoring each other. Taking time to tease by brushing his lips back and forth over Kurt's, or licking his bottom lip with little flicks. Sexy and sweet.

After a few minutes, things heated up, and they both stood to undress slowly, watching each other. Tangling together in Kurt's big four poster bed, exchanging hot kisses.

\---

Kurt giggled as Blaine held up his shirt, and Kurt slid his arms into the sleeves. With a very serious face, Blaine stepped in front of Kurt to do up the buttons.

"Oh, so you are my valet on this trip? For real?" Kurt tried to plant a kiss on Blaine's cheek, but he evaded it with a grin.

"Sir! That is not appropriate! I'm your manservant." Blaine used his awful British accent, trying to act affronted.

Kurt smirked back. "But you sucking me off twenty minutes ago was appropriate?"

Expertly tying Kurt's ascot, Blaine shook his head slightly. "Such language, sir." He tutted to himself as he got Kurt into his waistcoat and suit jacket. Kurt was dressed in his best, looking quite the part of a British dandy exploring the colonies.

Blaine's clothes were just as neat and pressed, but not as high in quality, as befitting his role. He had slicked his hair back with pomade for the trip, and it felt a bit odd to look in the mirror, looking like his old pre-Titanic self in so many ways. He may look like he did before, but he felt like a vastly different man inside.

They soon looked quite presentable, and made their way to the hotel restaurant. It was elegant as well, white tablecloths and the best china, efficient service.

"It is my valet's birthday, so I am treating him to a special meal. What would you suggest?" Kurt reviewed the menu, and discussed it with their server, a sharply uniformed man in his fifties.

Blaine's eyes wandered around the elegant restaurant, seeing how historic the building must be. "May I ask you about the history of this hotel? It seems quite old."

The server smiled, straightening up. "The Cataract Hotel was originally built in 1825, but grew larger and larger over the years. It has been quite the tourist destination. But I'm very proud of the other role the hotel had in history."

Blaine could tell there was a story there, and leaned forward. This is what he loved to do in his travels, talk to the locals and hear the history first hand. "Oh really? What was it?"

The older man had a proud look on his face. "You may have noticed that almost all the staff here are black people. It has been that way since General Whitney bought the hotel in 1835, and many of the staff were escaped slaves from the southern states. They had a "don't ask, don't tell" policy, quietly letting the staff work here until they could arrange passage across the river to Canada."

"That's amazing. The Underground Railroad...and this was one of the last stops." Blaine shook his head slowly.

Their server chuckled, clearly pleased at Blaine's interest. "Sometimes, rich slave owners would holiday here, and the staff would talk to the slaves he traveled with, and help them escape too."

Blaine had totally dropped his British accent, talking animatedly. "And wasn't this the area where much of the northern action of the War of 1812 took place as well?"

"Bartholomew, that is quite enough." Kurt laid a hand on Blaine's arm, his British voice reminding him of his surroundings. "Our server has other tables to attend to. We cannot monopolize his time so."

Blaine looked abashed. "I'm sorry, Mister..."

"Thompson, Silas Thompson."

Shaking his hand, Blaine smiled back. "Please just call me Bartholomew."

Their server rushed away after that, and they settled in to enjoy a leisurely gourmet midday meal. They had rushed off early that morning with only coffee and pastries. Silas gave them attentive service, but was too busy to chat much more.

Kurt had to remember to not be too familiar with Blaine, being in such a public setting together. As they finished up their coffees, he noticed an older woman seeming to look their way with a bit too much interest.

"Blaine, that red haired older lady, a couple tables to our right, is often looking our way. Do you know her?" Kurt said softly, trying to be discreet.

Glancing over, Blaine quickly ducked his head. "Oh shoot. It's June Dolloway. She's a New York socialite, who often attends the same functions as my parents."

Kurt thought for a moment. "Why don't you go now, up to our room? I'll finish here and join you shortly."

With a nod, Blaine was on his way. Kurt took a few last sips of his coffee, and then stood when Silas passed by. "Silas, thank you for that wonderful meal." He made sure to speak loud enough for the older woman to hear. "Better than I normally get in London, I can tell you."

Silas nodded in acknowledgment. Kurt made his escape.

\---

Blaine was pacing the room when Kurt entered, giving him an anxious glance. "Kurt, I'm sure she recognized me. What should we do?"

Kurt sighed, taking off his suit jacket and shoes. He settled down onto the sofa, looking out at the incredible view. He had warned Blaine about something like this happening, especially since they were in New York State now.

"Well, there's no point letting it spoil our vacation. Either she recognized you or she didn't. We can't change that. We will be more careful until we leave, that's all." Kurt said practically.

Blaine shook his head, his big eyes large and troubled. "I don't know, Kurt."

Kurt held out his arms, and Blaine sat down, letting Kurt hug him tight and soothe him. "Well, how about we relax here for a bit, maybe some reading. Then we bundle up and go for a long walk around the falls. No one will recognize you with a hat and scarf wrapped around your face. Then we can order room service for dinner and leave tomorrow morning. I don't think there's much risk that way, do you? It's a huge hotel, after all."

"OK, Kurt." Blaine said, but he still sounded a little troubled by it all.

\---

The air was cool and crisp, his breath showing as white vapour with every exhale. Perfectly white snow thickly covered everything, softening the edges, and made a soft crunching noise under his feet with each step.

Blaine walked beside him, a big scarf wrapped around his neck and lower face and a thick knit cap covering his hair. Only his beautiful eyes were visible, and Kurt was happy to see them full with his normal curiosity and boyish wonder.

They stood at various vantage points, looking down at the gorge carved over time by huge volumes of water. The horseshoe shaped falls on the Canadian side were still flowing strongly, making a mist at the base. The edges of the shore were frozen, with gigantic icicles. The wide river below was iced over from shore to shore, with thick snow on top. Some people were walking on the frozen river, despite many warning signs.

"Want to go down to the ice?" Kurt asked. In Ohio, the rivers often froze during winter and he walked on them.

Blaine shook his head. "Don't you know what happened here last year?"

Kurt shrugged. "I was in Paris then." It was hard to get any news about the US over there, except for what his father told him in letters.

Leading Kurt over to a metal plaque, Blaine read it aloud. "Ice Bridge Tragedy. On February 4, 1912, the ice bridge across the Niagara Ricer, with dozens of tourists on it, broke loose below the American Falls. Three people were unable to get to shore, a honeymoon couple Mr. And Mrs. Eldridge Stanton of Toronto and Burrell Heacock of Cleveland, Ohio. The Stantons are shown in this sketch on the ice floe they were on entered the whirlpool rapids, just before the floe broke up, tossing them into the water, where they drowned."

The sketch was of a couple clutching each other on a small island of ice. He could all too easily picture the couple facing their horrible fate together, knowing in seconds they were going down into the depths of the icy waters. He had seen it with hundreds of people in those last minutes of the Titanic.

He jerked when Blaine's arm came around him, and understanding eyes met his. "Come on, let's go back to the hotel and light a big fire. Order up tea and a hot meal."

Kurt nodded and let Blaine lead him back, feeling a bit numb and distant from everything. He tried to regain their earlier gaiety, but it felt forced. Instead he snuggled into Blaine, held him tight and took the comfort he so gladly offered.

Later, in bed, Blaine made love to him, slow and sweet. Showing with light touches and soft words how much he cared.

Kurt knew the Niagara River deaths brought up Titanic memories for Blaine too. His touch was needy at the end, and Kurt clutched him just as tightly as they found their release. Sharing kiss after kiss as they cooled down, cocooned together under the thick blankets to keep the cold and the rest of the world out.

\---

Blaine woke to an empty bed, and stretching his hand to Kurt's side, found it cold. Sitting up, he realized it wasn't even daybreak yet. The room was lit by icy cool moonlight. On the large window seat, Kurt leaned against one wall, looking out the window, wrapped in the thick blanket. In the pale moonlight, he looked like an Ice Prince, a beautiful half-elfin creature that could disappear in a swirl of magic.

Shaking his head at his sleep-fuzzy ideas, Blaine crawled out of bed and pulled on a thick robe. He sat at the other end of the window seat, mirroring Kurt's posture. "Have you been awake long?" His voice was soft, not wanting to be too jarring to Kurt.

Kurt looked at him, his eyes tired and seeming distant. "I had trouble sleeping."

"Titanic nightmares?" Blaine didn't get them very often anymore, but they always left him unsettled afterwards.

Shaking his head, Kurt looked down. "No, just thinking about things...us..."

A curl of dread spread through Blaine. "Us?"

Kurt sighed and reached over to take Blaine's hand, squeezing it softly. "It's almost a year ago since we took that Handfasting Oath, promising to give it our best shot, but knowing we could end it after a year if it didn't work."

Blaine could hardly catch his breath. Kurt's voice was so detached, so cold. "Promising to love and cherish each other."

"I do love you, Blaine, and know you love me." Kurt said, his eyes lifting to Blaine's, and he could see all the churned up emotions in his eyes. Kurt impatiently wiped at his cheek, the tear track still visible in the moonlight. "But it's not enough. I want to end things between us now."

The pain that followed those words was immediate, and Blaine curled up over his bent knees, clutching them. "No, Kurt, no. Don't do this, please... Why do you want this?" He scrambled to think straight, think of something he had done wrong, looking for clues about what had happened.

Kurt looked back out the window, wiping away tears that trickled down his face. "We are very different people, Blaine, from different backgrounds. We want different things in life. You know I was worried about this on the ship, even."

"But I live in your world, Kurt. I'm surviving in it just fine, even before you showed up." Blaine was hurt and a bit angry. Was Kurt really going to throw everything they had away?

Kurt scoffed, quietly. "Yes, you survive, you exist, Blaine. But are you truly living? Vaudeville for you is just a way to pay the bills and tour the country. But for me, Vaudeville, performing in front of audiences, it's my life. It's me. I come alive for it. It feeds my soul." He looked back at Blaine. "I want you to find what feeds your soul. What you love."

"So, in your mind, you're setting me free? This is such crap!" Blaine got up, walking fast around the room. "I was miserable without you, Kurt. I felt half-alive, thinking you were dead." He ran his hands through his messy hair.

Kurt stood up, resigned, sad. "Well, you know now that I'm alive, so you won't be depressed and grieving me. This won't be easy, but I think we will be happier in the long run."

"So, you want me to leave the circuit and do what? I'm not trained in much." Blaine put his hands on his hips.

Kurt just shook his head. "Go explore the world, explore your limits, your passions. You love learning about history and seeing natural wonders. You'll find a way."

"Come with me then, Kurt. We can anywhere, everywhere." Blaine stepped forward, grabbing Kurt's hands. "We'll get you riding a real camel. Travel the Silk Road."

Kurt squeezed his hands, shaking his head. "I left home when I finished school and travelled for years, Blaine. I'm at a different place in my life than you are. You need the time and space to figure out what you want in life. I want to concentrate on my career now."

"And Elliott has nothing to do with it?" Blaine asked, his hands holding Kurt's tight when he flinched and tried to pull away. "Are you involved with him, Kurt?"

Closing his eyes, Kurt sighed. He opened them to see Blaine's gaze searching his. "No, Blaine. He's interested in me, but he's only my friend. He has nothing to do with this."

Blaine's eyes dropped, dropped to their linked hands. Saw that he was clutching Kurt's, trying so hard to hold onto him. On the ship, he had said he was worried about getting off the ship, and Kurt slipping away like sand through his fingers. Here they were, almost a year later, and it was going to happen anyways. There was nothing he could do. With a sigh, he let go, and Kurt dropped his hands back to his sides.

"OK, Kurt. You have made up your mind, and our oath was that either one of us could end it. I wish you all the best going forward." Blaine voice cracked at the end, and he turned away, going into the tiny adjoining servants room. He curled up under the covers, crying into the pillow, until he fell asleep, worn out.

\---

A few hours later, Kurt shook him awake. "Blaine, it's time to go. I've already packed everything. Just get dressed." His voice was unemotional, distant, and he didn't meet Blaine's eyes.

Sighing, Blaine got up and mechanically got ready. They were soon on the road back, and they didn't speak or touch the whole time. Back in town, Kurt moved his things to Melanie's room. Blaine sat on their bed, still feeling stunned.

A week later, he left the circuit.

\---

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-A/N: Poor boys.... Thanks for reading this looooong chapter!

-Niagara Falls: It's been a major tourist destination for hundreds of years. It's a collection of three waterfalls: The American Falls and Brides Veil Falls are on the American side, and the massive Horseshoe Falls is on the Canadian side. The combined falls have the highest flow rate of any waterfall in the world, with an average annual flow rate of 85,000 cubic feet (2,400 m3) per second. The drop on the Horseshoe Falls is about 188 feet (57 m), which makes it incredible that many people have survived going over the falls.

-The Cataract Hotel opened in 1825, and expanded over the years. It has quite a history around the Underground Railroad, with many escaped slaves slipping to the Canadian boarder with boats over the Niagara River. The hotel burned down in 1945.

-The War of 1812: This war was primarily between England and the US, and lasted about 3 years. It was fought in 3 areas: huge naval battles in the Atlantic, large-scale battles in the Southern US and Gulf Coast, and land and naval battles on the US-Canadian frontier around Niagara/Great Lakes/St Lawrence. Canada was still a colony of Britain then. On Aug 24, 1814, the president fled to Virginia as the White House (then called the President's Palace or President's House), the Capitol and the Treasury were set on fire and left in ruins. A later battle inspired a lawyer, Francis Scott Key, to write a poem called "Defence of Fort M'Henry", which became the 'Star Spangled Banner' when set to music. The war ended with the Treaty of Ghent, resuming friendly trade relations without restriction.

-Ice Bridge Tragedy: Many people witnessed it as it happened. Rescue workers dangled ropes from the bridges downstream. Burrell Heacock tried to hoist himself on a rope, but ended up falling into the water and drowning in the fast moving current. Eldridge tried using the ropes too, but saw it was futile, and hugged his wife Clara as their ice sheet broke apart.

-Check out my blog on tumblr about this series with info about the historical references. Lots of pictures and links. delightful-fear-ocean.tumblr.com


	9. Chapter 9

**\- TEN MONTHS LATER -**

"Well, don't you look wonderful in pants!" A strident woman's voice caused heads to turn.

Kurt looked up to see Molly Brown walking towards him, a big smile on her face. He greeted her warmly, planting a kiss on each cheek, a more European style of greeting he had gotten used to in France.

"Mrs. Brown, this is my father, Burt Hummel and my step-mother, Carole Hudson." Kurt smiled as his parents chatted with the famous woman, her down to earth manner putting them at ease, and they were soon on a first name basis.

Molly put a hand on Carole's arm, leaning in close. "So, you didn't take Burt's name in marriage? Inspired by Lucy Stone, were you?"

Carole glanced warmly at Burt, and then back to Molly. "Partially, but at the time of our marriage, I had a son around Kurt's age, and I wanted to keep my name for his sake."

Kurt wrapped an arm around Carole's waist, giving her a half-hug at the reference to Finn. It had been many years since his passing, but they all still keenly felt his absence. Carole shared a look with Kurt, and nodded in acknowledgment.

"Well, you must feel so proud of Kurt, with all his success." Molly said to Burt.

Burt nodded. "I'm glad that my boy has followed his dreams, and found a way to showcase his talents. He was meant for the stage."

Kurt felt a bit embarrassed at the compliments, but coming from his father, they meant so much. "They came to the final performance of my run Saturday."

"Didn't you love it? I've been to it three times and told everyone I know to check it out." Molly said to his parents.

Kurt had just finished a three-month show in New York, in the Eltinge Theatre. The musical, comedic play had done well, the small size of the theatre helping increase demand for tickets until it was sold out for the run. Support from society women like Molly Brown had certainly helped.

He had met Molly Brown backstage after a show, and they had immediately got on like old friends. She had invited him out to some parties, and everyone had been interested in meeting Peter Lockwood. Newspaper interviews, discussing his work in Europe and the Titanic tragedy, made his stage name even more well known.

"Thanks, Molly. I think we better get seated now. It looks like things are about to begin." Kurt gave his friend's arm a squeeze before following Burt and Carole into the large auditorium.

The hall had row after row of folding chairs. Molly led them to an area near the front where other Titanic survivors were gathered. Most of the other chairs were full of seamen, some officers, but mostly crewmen.

A man with snowy white hair and a matching goatee stepped up to the podium onstage, and the crowd settled down. He wore a simple black suit with a clerical collar.

"Thank you to everyone who has gathered here today. I am Reverend Marshall, of the Seamen's Church Institute. We are proud to present the details of the International Conference of Safety of Life at Sea."

Many of the crowd burst into applause and cheering. These changes had been long awaited by the hard working men in the room.

The Reverend held up his hands until the room quieted. "Joining us today are many Titanic survivors. Many have made it their mission to make the deaths of hundreds of people on that ship to not be in vain." He held up a large document. "This is the first big step that will change the lives of many getting on ships from now on."

The Reverend went on to highlight the safety measures all boats holding more than fifty people would need to abide by. It detailed the number of lifeboats and life jackets required, safety training of the crew, boat construction around watertight compartments, and radio communications.

Kurt pulled out a handkerchief to dab at his eyes. So many of the changes discussed would have saved lives if they had been in place on the Titanic. Burt put his arm around Kurt, hugging him tight in comfort.

By the time they shuffled out into the weak January sunlight, Kurt felt emotionally drained. It was a relief to not have an evening performance he needed to rush to prepare for.

He pointed up to the top corner of the building. "Carole, Dad...see that small white lighthouse up there? Molly erected it last year as a Titanic memorial. The ball lowers to the base everyday at noon."

As his parents looked up, commenting on the structure, Kurt recognized someone in the crowd. _Blaine._

He was talking with an older man, and Kurt realized it was his father, Charles. They were both dressed well, in tailored suits and thick wool coats.

Blaine must have felt Kurt's gaze, because he stopped talking, and he turned to face Kurt. For countless heartbeats, they stared at each other, the crowd moving between them, separated by only twenty feet or so.

Kurt could hardly think, could hardly breathe. He felt frozen in place.

Blaine looked away first, turning back towards his father, talking again like he had before.

Shoulders sinking, Kurt turned back to his parents. "Well, we should get a taxi and head uptown. I have a wonderful French restaurant in mind for tonight." He put on a brave face, a closed lip smile that hopefully looked convincing.

His father gave him a long look, and then he wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. "Hey, Kiddo. Do you think I don't know my own kid? You are in no shape for a big night out tonight."

Returning the hug, Kurt felt a surge of love for this dear man who knew him so well.

"Burt..." Carole's hand tugged on her husband's shoulder.

They pulled apart, and Kurt reached again for his handkerchief, turning away to dab at his eyes and blow his nose. All the Titanic stuff, the memories, the talk of safety measures and then seeing Blaine... It was all too much. He was seconds away from really losing it.

"Mr. Hummel, Mrs. Hummel, I'm Blaine Anderson. I knew your son on the ship. These are my parents, Charles and Edina Anderson." The warm tenor voice was so, so close, and Kurt turned in surprise to see his father shaking Charles' hand.

Blaine's eyes were on Kurt's again, from only a few steps away. As their parents made their greetings and polite conversation, Kurt could only take in the beautiful man in front of him. His hair was well trimmed, but curly. His clothing was perfectly tailored, reminding Kurt of his suits on the Titanic. His face looked the same...but there was something more there.

His eyes, his expression, they were different. He was guarded, distant. The Blaine Kurt had known had always been so open and trusting around Kurt. This expression now was because of him, of how he had hurt Blaine.

"I think our boys are a bit done in by everything today." Charles clapped a hand on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine jumped slightly, and turned back to the group. "Yes, it has been a lot of old memories, stirred up."

"Well, it was great to meet you. We better get on our way. Kurt is taking us to some fancy French place for supper." Burt stepped closer to Kurt, his eyes sweeping over him. Probably seeing he needed to go.

Charles' eyes were on Blaine, and then he stood up taller. "We have a new chef, straight from Paris, at the restaurant at the hotel. Would you do us the honour of being our guests for dinner tonight?"

Kurt looked up in surprise at the offer. This was the man he had talked with a year and a half ago, asking for Blaine's guitar. The man who knew of the nature of their relationship. Knew that Kurt had loved Blaine.

He looked to his parents, and could see they were waiting for his answer. He looked at Blaine, but he wasn't showing much emotion. He couldn't think of a polite way to decline.

"Um...sure, Mr. Anderson. That's very kind of you to offer." Kurt tried to sound normal, to offer a smile, but he was sure he sounded strained.

"Wonderful! Shall we say 7pm?" The older man offered, and they had soon finalized the plans.

In the taxi with his parents, heading back to his flat, Kurt didn't know what to think. Obviously Blaine had been the one to bring his parents over to Kurt, to introduce them. Why had he bothered? Charles probably wouldn't have noticed Kurt in the crowd.

\---

 

The dinner was incredible. The chef obviously knew he was cooking for the owners, as everything was perfect. The service was attentive and the wine flowed, selected to compliment each course.

When the chef came out after their meal, they all complimented him profusely. Kurt added his accolades in French, and the chef looked surprised, but then they discussed Paris and found they had a few common acquaintances.

Charles was giving Kurt a bit of a strange look once the chef moved on the greet other customers.

"Father, Kurt was our server at Cafe Parisian on the Titanic. He worked in Paris a few years before that." Blaine chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee.

Charles tilted his head to the side, obviously trying to place Kurt from what he could remember of Marcel. "What type of work did you do in France?"

Kurt shrugged. "What I do now. Female Impersonation. Singing, dancing."

Blaine was laughing hard at his father's expression. "You saw him perform! He's 'Nikita'. You were there the night I met Kurt."

Burt, Carole and Edina were chuckling along as they took in Charles' confusion. It broke the ice in what had been a rather formal, polite dinner. Pretty soon, Kurt was going through his various accents, making Edina laugh particularly hard at his English one, saying it reminded her of her father.

As they went to the lobby, pulling on their coats, the Hummel-Hudson's thanked the Anderson's for the wonderful meal. Charles had the doorman hail a taxi for them.

Kurt felt a presence at his side as he wrapped his scarf around his neck. He looked over, and it was Blaine, his eyes large and hard to read.

"Would you stay for a bit? I'd like to talk, just the two of us." His voice was soft, for Kurt's ears only. His expression gave nothing away.

Kurt found himself nodding. "Yes, yes of course." He stepped over to tell his father.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Burt's eyes were full of concern as they took in the stress and worry in Kurt's expression.

Kurt nodded. "Things ended badly between us. I'm sure he's angry at me, and it's only fair I hear him out." Even if it were Blaine yelling at him for hours, Kurt would still go. It was his fault for ending it. He was totally to blame.

Nodding, Burt gave him a hug and waved goodbye to the Anderson's as he left with Carole.

Blaine guided Kurt to the elevator and they were soon standing outside the door to Blaine's rooms. Kurt's breath caught in his throat when he thought of the last time he'd been here, taking Blaine's guitar home with him. Crying over it for hours, stroking over the polished wood that Blaine had held, had touched. The instrument that had been so important to him for a dozen years had been a focus for his grief.

The door was open now, and Kurt stepped in. It looked about the same, clean but with Blaine's books and music strewn about. His shoes were scattered across the floor and it reminded Kurt of all the times he nagged Blaine to not just kick them off in their hotel rooms.

The door clicked shut behind them, and Kurt sagged. He reached for his handkerchief but before he could pull it out, Blaine passed him a clean one. _Too much, too much..._

Kurt was normally a strong person, but the emotions of the day were just too much. Too much of the past stirred up. And now, here alone with Blaine... Kurt turned away, wiping at his tears.

Warm hands guided Kurt to the sofa, and Blaine settled beside him. His large hazel eyes were full of emotions too as they searched Kurt's,

"Kurt..." Blaine said softly, wrapping his arms around Kurt tight.

Kurt sunk into the embrace, pushing his face against Blaine's neck as he cried. They held on to each other as the wave of emotions overtook them. Blaine was holding Kurt just as tightly as sobs racked his slim frame.

"Only you, only you know really know what that night was like." Blaine said as he wiped his face.

Pulling back, Kurt knew he looked a mess. His fair skin went so blotchy, his eyes so red, when he cried. He dabbed the cloth over his face, trying to go back to normal. He felt embarrassed and shy.

"Sorry about that. It's been almost two years, I don't think about it that often anymore. Try not to."

Blaine took Kurt's hand, giving it a squeeze. "Me too. But good things happened on that ship. We happened on that ship."

Kurt looked up at Blaine's eyes, trying to read them. "Aren't you mad at me, Blaine? The handfasting..."

Sighing, Blaine shook his head. "I was the one who pushed you into it on the ship. Pushed you into the relationship."

"But I wanted it too." Kurt felt like he was going to cry again. This was such a mess and Blaine was being so nice. Too nice. Getting up, Kurt walked around the room, trying to calm down.

Blaine was still looking lost, sitting on the sofa alone. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we hadn't hit the iceberg. What if we made plans for the rest of the trip and had left together at the end?"

The idea was amazing. Kurt tried to picture them as they had been, totally smitten with each other, not worrying about how they would live, just confident they would figure it all out.

Kurt chuckled, looking at Blaine. "Well, you wouldn't have been a Rebel Prince, I guess. Running around the countryside." He paused, looking around the room. "But it looks like your back, safe and sound, in the kingdom now."

Scoffing, Blaine got up and took off his suit coat, draping it over a chair. "Hardly. I've only been here since Christmas, and I'm leaving pretty soon."

So many questions bubbled up. "Where did you go when you left? Did you go to another Vaudeville circuit? Where are you going now?"

Blaine chuckled, walking towards Kurt slowly. He stopped in front of Kurt, letting his eyes take him in from his tall, perfect hair down to his brogues. His eyes were consideringly warmer when they met Kurt's again. "So many questions. Should I charge you a kiss a question like we used to?"

Desire hit Kurt fast, and he couldn't resist leaning forward to capture Blaine's smirking lips. The kisses were hard, and a bit desperate, for both of them.

"Bedroom..." Blaine whispered, his lips nipping along Kurt's neck as he pulled him towards a door.

It was so good, it was so easy. It felt so right. Clothes were off in seconds and they were in the large bed, groaning as naked skin made contact. Getting lost together as they touched and tasted, greedy for everything.

\---

Kurt woke up, and it took a few moments to remember the night before.

Turning, he looked at Blaine, relaxed in sleep. For months, they had shared tiny beds in seedy hotel rooms. It felt right to sleep close.

The morning light was softly lighting the room. Kurt sighed as he looked at Blaine's peaceful face. If only they could always sleep together, wake up together.

Picking up his pocket watch, Kurt saw it was still very early. He relaxed, flipping the watch over in his hand, opening it to trace over Blaine's initials inside. Thinking.

Blaine stirred, and stretched. He made the cutest little noises, that Kurt couldn't resist kissing along his jaw, ending up on his lips.

The kisses were lazy, sweet, sleepy. Blaine pulled Kurt over him, cupping his ass as the kisses got more heated. They ground together, finding the right rhythm and pressure. It felt good, being close and intimate like this, like they had been so many times in the past. Knowing each other so well, what they each needed.

"I've missed this." Blaine sighed a few minutes later, cleaned up and cuddling.

Kurt smirked. "The sex? Yeah, me too."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Not just that, silly. Waking up together, kissing, sleeping with you. You." His dark eyes went from Kurt's eyes down to his lips, and back again.

"I miss all that too. I miss you, Blaine." So much so, some nights he ached to be with him. Just to be near him, to see him, to hold him.

Blaine's lips scrunched together in a thin line. "But it doesn't work with us, does it?" His eyes took on a bit of a sad, distant look.

Kurt just wanted to take that hurt look away. "It didn't before. We were drifting apart."

"Why? Why can't it work better between us? We can figure this out, surely." Blaine took Kurt's hand, pressing a kiss onto the back of it.

Nodding, Kurt wanted it too. "What have you been doing, Blaine? What are you doing next?"

Rolling onto his back, Blaine kept playing with Kurt's fingers. "Travelled around, working for room and board in odd jobs. Occasionally doing a gig for money."

"Why did you see your parents?" Kurt had been wondering about this.

Blaine shrugged. "I worried about June Dolloway talking about seeing me alive. And I thought about how you thought I should see them. I don't know... It was kind of facing up to my past and coming to peace with it."

"I'm surprised you aren't working for your father again. That's what you always said would happen." Kurt said, liking that Blaine was being so open.

Sighing, Blaine looked down at Kurt. "We sat up one night, drinking too much brandy, and really talked. Talked about Titanic. Talked about the jobs I did afterwards. He was impressed that I did so well on my own, with nothing but the clothes on my back."

Kurt was quiet, sensing Blaine had more to say.

"He offered me my position back, but didn't seem surprised when I turned it down. We talked about how he started the hotel and how satisfying it was to know it was all his own accomplishment." Blaine looked around the room, seeing the elegant furnishings, obvious signs of his father's success.

"I want that too. I want to build something of my own, work hard on it, know it's all mine if it succeeds. Like he did with the hotel. Like you did with your act." Blaine turned on his side to face Kurt.

Kurt was blinking back tears, feeling so much for this man. "I want that for you too, Blaine. I'll help you any way I can."

"I feel like I've grown up, and I'm on the way to becoming my own man. Does that sound too cliché?" Blaine smirked.

Kurt leaned in to kiss those irresistible lips. "Maybe, but I get what you're saying. Well, I'm heading out to California for a few months. Maybe your travels will bring you by for a visit."

"Why there?" Blaine was kissing down Kurt's neck. Light kisses that teased more than aroused.

Shrugging a shoulder, Kurt played with Blaine's curls. "The show is moving to a theatre out in LA for a run. An old friend of mine from the Music Hall days is out there now and says it's booming. Plus he keeps writing to me about the weather and the ocean."

Blaine chuckled as he ran his hand down Kurt's chest. "I can just picture you and some pasty Brit on a sandy beach. Don't you burn?"

Slapping Blaine's hand away, Kurt made a bitchy face. "No, I wear a special cream and a big hat."

Undaunted, Blaine nuzzled into Kurt's chest until he giggled. "I was just worried about all this lovely skin." He kissed downwards, teasing until he had Kurt squirming in pleasure against him.

\---

-Disclaimer: I own nothing. 

-A/N: Be patient… one more chapter…. 

-Historical Fun Facts! (sorry there’s lots for this chapter… feel free to skip if it’s not your thing.) 

-Lucy Stone (1818-1893) was an abolitionist, suffragist and activist for women’s rights. In 1853, Henry Blackwell began a two-year courtship of Lucy, but she did not want to marry because she did not want to surrender control over her life and assume the legal position occupied by married women. Through correspondence, he argued that they could create a marriage that was an equal partnership, governed by mutual agreement. They could take steps to protect her against unjust laws, and together they could accomplish more than they could alone. She retained her personal property when they married, and her surname, viewing taking her husband’s name as the legal annihilation of a married woman’s identity. There were some legal battles around this, but in 1856, she was able to publically announce that her name would remain Lucy Stone. 

-Eltinge Theatre: This Broadway theatre was opened in 1912, named after the female impersonator, Julian Eltinge. It eventually became a burlesque theatre, then a movie theatre, and was renamed the ‘Empire Theatre’ in 1954. In 1998, the whole theatre was moved 170 feet west, gutted, and the shell became the lobby and lounge of a 25 screen AMC theatre, with the escalators going through the former proscenium arch of the stage. 

-Seamen's Church Institute of New York and New Jersey: It was founded in 1834, and loosely affiliated with the Episcopal church, serving mariners through education, pastoral care and legal advocacy. In 1913, it opened its doors to a 13-story building near the ports along the south end of Manhattan. It’s main purpose was to provide safe, cheap hotel rooms for sailors to keep them away from the ‘crimps’ in the dock areas who would encourage sailors to use up their wages on alcohol and gambling. 

-Titanic Memorial is a 60-foot (18 m) tall lighthouse erected in 1913 to remember the people who died on the Titanic on April 15, 1912. It stood on the top of the Seamen’s Church Institute’s 13 floor building near the East River. In 1976, it was moved to the South Street Seaport Museum, standing at the entrance of the museum complex. Thanks to ‘I hate mosquitoes’ from fanfiction.net for telling me about visiting this memorial in August 2016. 

-International Conference of Safety of Life at Sea (SOLAS): SOLAS Convention is one of the most important international treaties concerning the safety of merchant ships. The Titanic disaster in 1912 caused a lot of media attention on the safety standards of the day. The Conference was attended by representatives of 13 countries, and was adopted Jan 20, 1914. It detailed safety standards like lifeboats, safety training, watertight bulkheads, firefighting appliances, radio equipment and established a North Atlantic ice patrol. It did not enter into force until July 1915 due to WWI breaking out in Europe. There have been conventions in 1929, 1948, 1960, and 1974, and continues to be updated and amended. 

-The New York gathering about the SOLAS conference at the Seamen’s Church Institute in January 1914 as described in the story is fiction. The Convention was signed in London. It is possible that such an event would have been organized by the SCI, as they did education for mariners.


	10. Chapter 10

"I hate motoring." Trent said decisively.

Blaine looked at his high school friend, chuckling, and glanced over at Thad, who was laughing too.

One of the best things about coming back to New York to be with his family for a while was reconnecting with old friends. Word had quickly gotten out in their circles that he had actually survived Titanic, and letters had poured into the hotel.

"I hate motoring with you! You have the worst sense of direction, and no mechanical skills. If you own a car, you need to know how to keep it running." Thad chimed in.

Trent shot his friend an unimpressed look. "Well, I'm going to get rid of the car. It's more work than it's worth."

"Really?" Blaine sat up straighter. "It's a Model T, right? Maybe I'll buy it off you."

Taking a long sip of his milkshake, Trent nodded at Blaine. "Yeah, it's about a year old. I'll give you a good deal on it. Just don't blame me if it breaks down during trips. Cars are just unreliable."

Blaine grinned widely. "I know, I know. I did a lot of road trips in the last year, and you definitely have to carry tools and coveralls with you. I'm pretty good at basic maintenance now."

Thad put down his cheeseburger. "I don't mind that part of it, but I get tired of getting lost all the time. You practically need ten maps and a navigator to get anywhere."

Blaine nodded, having gotten lost many, many times. Roads were poor quality and rarely signed. Anyone who wasn't a local had a hard time driving very far.

"But doesn't it feel like everyone is buying cars lately? Some people say they are going to replace horses and trains completely." Trent shook his head, his expression unbelieving.

Grinning, Blaine could only shake his head at his old friends. "Everyone you know! You two come from rich families and have rich friends. I've spent enough time around ordinary people to know for most people, a car would be impossible to afford."

"Henry Ford says he wants the Model T to be affordable for everyone. He’s already brought the price down 50%." Trent argued back, seeming a little affronted that Blaine pointed out their wealth like he wasn't from a wealthy family too.

Blaine nodded, thinking. "Well, I can see cars becoming really popular if the price comes down and roads improve." He turned to Trent. "Would you really sell me your car? I'd like to drive the Lincoln Highway, all the way to San Francisco."

"You're nuts!! That would take you months!" Thad laughed.

Trent held out his hand, and Blaine shook it. "Deal, Blaine. But I bet you'll want to sell the damn thing before you make it to Pennsylvania."

Blaine just chuckled, and they went on to talk about other things.

 

\---

"Oh Crap!" Blaine grumbled as he pulled the car over to a flat section on the side of the road and scrambled into the backseat.

He fumbled with the folded up top, pulling on its structural bows. Already, the vinyl was getting wet and his fingers were slipping. With a big pull, he got it halfway up, and shifted to the front seat to pull it into place, fastening it to the windscreen.

Panting, Blaine looked around and could only laugh. Everything was soaked; his clothes, his hair, the seats of the car. Outside wasn't much better. The deluge of rain was still coming down heavily, and the road was looking like a huge mud puddle.

There was a bit of wind, and the open sides of the car let the rain in. Digging around in his supplies in the backseat, Blaine pulled out a folded up canvas and stepped out into the rain.

It took a lot of maneuvering, but he was able to drape the material over the car, covering the open sides, and just leaving a crack open for fresh air. Blaine got some rags and dried off the seats as well as he could.

Looking down, his shirt was plastered to his body and dripping. His fingers were wet, and it took a while to undo his buttons. Stripping right down, Blaine took a deep breath before he stepped out into the rain.

Laughing, Blaine closed his eyes and tilted his face up. The rain poured down, soaking him thoroughly in seconds. He felt crazy and free; standing naked and wet in the rainstorm, mud squishing between his toes.

Reaching into the car, he pulled out a bar of soap, and rubbed the lather over his skin. There was no one around for miles, as he finished washing and worked on his hair. Rinsed clean, he sat down on a towel on the car seat, sticking his muddy feet outside the canvas curtain until they were rinsed off too.

He shivered a little as he toweled dry and got into clean clothes. It would be nice to start a fire to warm up and to cook a hot meal, but he doubted he'd find dry wood anywhere now. Moving things around, he was soon stretched out on the back seat wrapped in blankets. The rain had eased to a steady pitter-patter against the canvas, and he ate a cold meal of bread, cheese and apples.

Hopefully, the rain would ease up and the road wouldn't be too muddy in the morning. He needed to get into a town soon to stock up on gas and food.

He felt good. This trip had been hard, really tested him, but he had been able to rise to the challenges. When problems occurred, he had no choice but to deal with them. It wasn't the first night he had camped out in the middle of nowhere.

\---

Blaine signed his name with a bit of a flourish, and passed the registry book back to the hotel clerk.

"Thank you, Mr. Anderson." The clerk was professional enough to not give Blaine's appearance any lingering looks. He scooped up the key and paperwork, passing them over the counter.

Blaine accepted everything. "I understand there is a barbershop in the hotel. How late is it open?"

"Thirty more minutes, sir."

Nodding, Blaine turned to the bellhop. "Would you take my luggage up to the room? I’ll go up after I get a haircut and shave." After years in the hotel business, he felt comfortable directing the staff here too.

The uniformed man nodded, taking Blaine's bag.

An hour later, Blaine stepped out of a long, hot shower and dried off. Looking in the steamy mirror, he smiled. It felt good to look more like himself again. He had been a bit of a wild man the past little while.

Slipping on his suit, Blaine looked quite respectable. Perhaps a little more tanned, and his hair was curly instead of slicked back.

Taking the elevator down to the elegant lobby, Blaine was pleased when a tall man walked over to him, his customary smirk in place.

"Killer! You're looking good." Sebastian leaned in for a firm hug, his green eyes appreciative as they scanned over Blaine.

Blaine smiled back at his old school friend. "It's good to see you too, Sebastian. Shall we head into the restaurant?"

Attentive staff soon had them seated and wine poured out. "So, I hear from everyone that you are making quite the name for yourself out here."

Sebastian grinned, looking pleased. "Well, there is plenty of work here. There were 38 people murdered in Little Italy alone in a one year period."

"But I've heard it been hard to get convictions in those cases." Blaine shook his head. The world was changing so fast. New York was just as bad as Chicago for violent crimes.

Shrugging, Sebastian took a sip of his wine. "Most of it is done by professionals. People are too afraid to identify the killers, even when they are shooting people down on the streets."

"Were you with the Public Defenders office when that fingerprint conviction came through?" Blaine asked, trying to remember if Sebastian was out of school by then.

Shaking his head, Sebastian looked impressed that Blaine had brought it up. "No, I was in my last year of law then. But it was discussed a lot in my classes. It is great that the courts are finally recognizing the value of this evidence. It's far more reliable than eye-witness testimony."

Their server brought their first course, and Blaine dug into his shrimp, savoring the perfectly prepared dish.

Sebastian chuckled at the look of bliss on Blaine's face. "Should I leave you alone with your food? It looks like I'm intruding in something intimate here."

Blaine smiled back. "Sorry. I've been roughing it for a couple months, eating campfire food, simple stuff. Even when I go into a town for a meal, it's usually just at a greasy spoon. Nothing as good as this."

"Trent mentioned something about that in a letter. You bought his Tin Lizzie and you are playing at being a grand explorer or something?" Sebastian looked amused at the idea.

Blaine flushed slightly at the look. It was the same look his parents and friends in New York had given him, when he had left there. He sighed, searching for the words to explain it.

"Sebastian, have you ever had a moment when you look around at your life, with the eyes of an outsider, and it all just seems so surreal? Like we are all characters doing our part in some elaborate play?" Blaine asked softly, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass.

Sebastian's eyebrows rose slightly at that, and the teasing glint in his green eyes faded. He looked at Blaine, searching, assessing, and then leaned back in his chair. "I have, actually. But the Blaine I knew back in prep school certainly wasn't looking at the world that way. When did things change for you?"

"Titanic." Blaine said simply, and met Sebastian's gaze steadily, letting him see the emotions that word raised so easily. That fateful voyage had changed him in so many fundamental ways. 

Sebastian nodded. "For me, it was being discovered with a boy by my father. We were only fourteen, only kissing and touching a little, but his reaction was volcanic. He beat me, black and blue, calling me the worst names imaginable. I was sent to Salisbury after that."

"An all boys school?" Blaine couldn't help but see the irony of that.

Sebastian let out a scoff, and shook his head. "Yeah, he probably should have sent me to a convent to really keep me out of trouble." The smirk returned a little, and it reminded Blaine of all the stolen moments he had shared with Sebastian. His first kiss. So many other firsts.

"You always seemed older than the rest of us, more worldly." Blaine said, thinking back on those days.

Sebastian finished his steak tartar. "Well, I had been to France to visit relatives most summers. But that, that...incident," his mouth tightened as he struggled to find the word for it. "It changed me, deep inside. I didn't see the world the same way after that."

Blaine nodded, feeling something inside him loosen. "Yes, exactly. I was injured on Titanic, and woke up in a regular hospital, with nothing. I looked around, and when they asked me my name, I gave a made-up one." It had happened without conscious thought, feeling numb and detached from everything.

Their main courses came, and Blaine dug into his porterhouse.

"I found you have to make a choice at some point. You can stay in that world, playing your part, or you leave, and forge your own path. It's hard leaving. There's safety and financial security with the herd." Sebastian took a bite of his salmon.

Blaine looked at Sebastian, dressed in a fine suit and showing every sign of a man with connections, a man from a good family. "You seemed to have the best of both worlds."

Sebastian chuckled, a bit drily. "Dear old Dad is back in New York. Being out here gives me enough distance to live as I want, make my own career. But Daddy is dreadfully afraid of my little secret coming out, so he sends me cheques quarterly to keep things discrete."

"Isn't that basically extortion?" Blaine chuckled, as he sipped his wine.

Tilting his head to the side slightly, Sebastian gave a wicked grin. "That's quite an evil word for having my father's _loving_ support."

Blaine could only smile back at his old friend. There was a worldly cynicism behind the flirting and teasing, a jaded darkness that probably helped him understand his prey. Think like a criminal to catch them, convict them.

"So, what about you, Blaine? You shocked everyone by showing up, after living on your own for over a year. What now?" Sebastian leaned back as the server cleared their plates away, his eyes scanning over the man's ass in his tight uniform with an appreciative eye.

Blaine saw the look and chuckled. It was good talking with Sebastian after all these years. They came from similar families, had gone to the same school. Both had to hide their sexuality. But Blaine felt he could truly understand what he was going through now.

Sighing, Blaine sipped his water. "I feel caught between two worlds, not really fitting into either one anymore. Being back in New York, it was nice seeing everyone again, catching up, but after a few weeks, the whole thing felt stifling. It felt like I was playing the rich kid role."

Sebastian was listening attentively, nodding for Blaine to continue.

Biting his lip, Blaine could feel his emotions bubbling up. "I was in love with someone...a performer. I travelled with his vaudeville group for months, but he ended things between us. I didn't fit into his world either."

"He said that?" Sebastian seemed surprised.

Blaine nodded. "Well, he could tell I was just coasting along, not really engaging deeply with things."

"So, you feel kind of lost between the two worlds? Is that why you are driving all over the place? Looking for where you belong?" Sebastian sipped his coffee.

Blaine stirred milk into his. "Well, I know I love exploring and seeing new places. Figuring out how to get places and fixing the car when it breaks down. Talking to locals."

Leaning forward, Sebastian smiled widely. "That's good, Blaine. Use that and build on it. How can you make a career out of those things? You have the advantage of knowing what rich people are like, what they want. Find something that fits you."

"Is that what you did?" Blaine gave his old friend a warm look.

Sebastian nodded. "After dealing with my father all those years, taking on organized crime here seems like a walk in the park."

They finished their coffees, chatting about lighter topics. Later, they went to one of the new jazz clubs, and as a musician, Blaine was enthralled. They drank scotch and took in the performance.

\---

It was the wee hours of the morning when they left the club and got into a taxi.

Blaine gave the driver the name of his hotel.

Sebastian was pressed against his side, an arm draped over his shoulder. "Blaine, I'm glad you looked me up after all these years."

Turning his head, Blaine could see the way Sebastian was looking at him. There was attraction between them, and Blaine could remember the hot kisses and awkward fumbling times with him in that old school chapel. Part of him was curious about how it would be now. As men instead of teens, experienced men, giving each other pleasure.

Blaine nodded, but pulled away from Sebastian, shifting along the back seat. "It was good seeing you too."

In the darkness of the taxi, Sebastian's eyes were still sharp as they looked Blaine over. "You still have feelings for your performer." His voice was barely a whisper.

Blaine gave a wobbly grin back. "Yeah...can't seem to shake them." Even being apart for so long, he still missed Kurt. Maybe he should invite Sebastian into his hotel room, see if that would help the memories fade.

"Sort yourself out, Blaine. And then go to him. Try again. He didn't end things because he didn't love you anymore." Sebastian said, as the taxi stopped at the hotel.

Nodding, Blaine hugged Sebastian, and got out.

\---

A/N: One more chapter to go. Thanks for reading!

Fun Facts Time:

-Model T: Henry Ford released the first Model T in 1908, for around $850 (about $20,000 in today’s dollars). His goal was to make it a car for everyone, and he developed the assembly line, reducing the time to make a car from 12 hours to 1.5. By the 1920’s, Model T’s cost around $300 (about $7000 in today’s dollars). They were produced for 20 years, and over 16 million were sold. Before Model T’s, cars were scarce and expensive, toys for the super rich. It was the first affordable car for middle-class Americans, and changed travel forever.

-Roads: Prior to the 1920’s, roads were usually unpaved and used by the locals, so rarely signed. There was a big push as cars became more popular to develop them. One of the earliest transcontinental highways was the Lincoln Highway, formally dedicated Oct 31, 1913. It went from Times Square in NYC to Lincoln Park in San Francisco, over 3500 miles (5600 km) originally. Top speed on a Model T was about 65 miles/hour on good roads, and these weren’t good. One convoy in 1919 took two months to go from Washington DC to San Francisco, dealing with frequent problems like bridges failing, vehicle breakdown and getting stuck in the mud. 

-Tips for driving in 1913: Top up gasoline whenever possible, as gas stations are scarce. Motorists should wade through water to check the depth before driving through it. Equipment to carry: a shovel, an axe, jacks, tire casings and inner tubes, tools, and old shoes. West of Omaha, full camping equipment. Drive only during daylight (as there were no streetlights). 

-Canvas: Blaine has an old style canvas tent, basically a large piece of material with grommets along the edge, for using ropes to tie it to trees and to attach tent pegs as needed. Basic, but functional in various ways.

-Blaine's hotel was the relatively new Blackstone Hotel, a luxury hotel that opened in 1910, and became known as the Hotel of Presidents. Both Roosevelts, Taft, Wilson, Harding, Coolidge, Hoover, Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Nixon and Carter had stayed there over the years. It underwent a massive renovation in 2005 and has Chicago Landmark status now.

-Salisbury School was opened in 1901 in Salisbury Connecticut (about 2 hours north of NYC). An all boy boarding school, in the heart of the Berkshires. This is where Blaine went to prep school with Sebastian, Trent, and Thad. 

-Fingerprints were first used in a murder conviction in Chicago. In 1910, Thomas Jennings broke into a house and ended up killing the owner in a confrontation, and when he fled, he ended up leaving his fingerprints on a freshly painted rail outside the house.

-Black Hand was an extortion racket in Chicago and other cities. Typically, they would send a threatening letter unless a certain sum of money was paid. One assassin, referred as 'Shotgun Man', killed 15 Italian immigrants between Jan 1, 1910 and Mar 15, 1911 at 'Death Corner' in Chicago's Little Sicily. Many witnessed the shootings, but the killer was never identified by police.

-Chicago became a place musicians gravitated to from the time of the 1893 World's Fair and its ragtime pianists. Later, the Great Migration of African Americans from the southern states created demand for cabarets, cafes and dance halls. Musicians from New Orleans and Mississippi delta fed into the emergence of jazz. 


	11. Chapter 11

Kurt walked slowly along the edge of the water, calm morning waves lapping at his bare feet. The beach was deserted this early in the day, the dance halls and amusements closed until the evening.

With his pants rolled up above his knees, and his shoes dangling from one hand, Kurt took a couple steps into the water, feeling it eddy around his shins. The sand below his feet shifted with the pull of the waves, and Kurt just closed his eyes, feeling the ocean breeze against his face.

Gulls swooped and called, but didn't pay him much attention. Looking out across the water, Kurt felt alone but not lonely. He felt at peace. The beach always made him feel this way.

Ten minutes later, Kurt reached his favorite rock. It was in the shallow waves, but easy to climb to keep dry. The morning sun had warmed it, and Kurt stretched out, lying in the sun with the soothing sounds of the waves swirling around his rock.

Reaching into his pocket, Kurt pulled out the most recent letter, and opened it carefully. It had been a delightful surprise when he had received the first one, back in February. He had eagerly replied and they had kept up their correspondence on a fairly regular weekly basis.

Blaine had been travelling for months, going off course to explore natural wonders and historic places. He was now in Utah, and Kurt laughed at his descriptions of the huge Saltair resort on the southern shores of the Great Salt Lake.

Looking over at the Santa Monica pier in the distance, Kurt could only see how similar it was to the resort Blaine described. Large beaches, full of people enjoying swimming in the salty water, bath houses to change into swimming costumes, huge dance halls packed with couples swirling in time to the big bands.

He had never swum in that inland salty lake. Blaine described how buoyant he had been, floating so easily. He had a way with words, and Kurt practically felt like he was there, with him. And his heart ached at the thought.

It was touching he missed the most. Not spending time together, eating meals together, waking up together. Those things were wonderful too. But it was the touching that he was missing now.

It wasn't even the sex, although that had been great. Enthusiastic, sensual times when he sunk into a world of sensation. Two bodies, naked and vulnerable to each other, trusting, concentrating on pleasing each other. A wonderful connection.

It was the hours of touching without any sensual intent, sometimes while talking, sometimes not. And Blaine had loved it too, soaking up it up, his skin starved for the connection.

Maybe it was why humans had evolved to be almost naturally hairless. More skin, more nerves, more sensation. More ways to connect. To feel.

Were they both a bit starved for contact? Blaine had been raised by distant parents who cared more about image than showing true love to their children. Burt had been a great father, but Kurt had missed the frequent cuddles from his mother after she died.

They weren't children any more, hadn't been for years. Did those old days of casual neglect still resonate?

Yes. Like a whisper echoing down an empty tunnel, seeming to never diminish. It echoed into deep-rooted beliefs of self-worth and lovability. Could he ever truly love anyone? Could anyone ever truly love him? Was what he had shared with Blaine real, true love?

Even now, his heart wasn't easily touched. Since he had ended their handfasting, Kurt had been around other men. Sometimes even felt a small pull of attraction, but he had held back. Elliott had certainly pursued him hard, but Kurt had kept him at bay, and soon left to do the play in New York.

Seeing Blaine in New York again had been wonderful. To know he understood, and still cared. That they still had their old connection. But what now? Would it ever be more?

Tears steamed down Kurt's face as he put the letter back into the envelope, and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Close to his heart.

\---

"Sheesh, would you just call the bloke already? Invite him here for a holiday or something." Charlie got up to pour himself another glass of wine.

Chuckling, Kurt put the letter he had been reading back into its envelope and stashed it in his bag. "He's out exploring. Just his Model T and lots of new roads."

At least he had kept in touch. Kurt's heart always skipped a beat when he saw his familiar handwriting on an envelope in the post. It was a bit lonely working in LA. He gotten friendly with the cast and crew of the theatre, and having Charlie here helped, but it wasn't the same.

Taking a large sip of his drink, Charlie grinned at his friend. "Are you a man or have you changed into a girl from dressing up as one so much? Are you going to moon around here, waiting for him to show up?"

"Are you deaf, you git? He's travelling! I don't know where he is." Kurt used his British accent, hoping the message would get through better. He had met Charlie years ago, when working the English music halls with Paul. Since then, Charlie had gained in popularity, and had been working more in the US.

Giving Kurt a considering look, Charlie shrugged. "But he's getting closer, isn't he? Last letter he was in Nevada."

"Yeah, I guess so." Kurt smoothed on his lotion, and flopped back under the large umbrella.

Charlie smirked again. "He writes the descriptions well. Makes me want to go some of those places."

Kurt cracked an eye open and flicked the brim of his hat up to glare at his friend. "Did you read my letters?" His glare was the iciest one in his arsenal.

"Just the parts about his travels, I swear!" Charlie let out a yelp as Kurt jumped off the lounge chair and headed towards him. He dashed to the other side of the hotel swimming pool, chuckling. "I didn't read any of the parts when he talked about how he misses your blue eyes and where he wants to lick champagne off you."

Kurt's longer legs served him well, and he shoved Charlie hard, feeling satisfied at the big splashing sound his old friend made as he fell into the deep end of the pool. He stomped back to his lounge chair, settling back in.

Moments later, Charlie was siting on the lounge chair next to his, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. "Run some lines with me, OK?"

Lowering his magazine, Kurt let out a frustrated huff. Charlie was like a little brother at times, always wanting to be the centre of attention. He was two years younger than Kurt, and times like this he really felt it. "You don't have _lines_ , idiot. It's a silent movie."

Charlie rolled his eyes, giving Kurt his best beseeching face. "Then run 'scenes' with me, please?"

Kurt gave in with a nod, setting his magazine down.

"Great. Now you just sit there and act like a pretty girl. You're used to doing that." Charlie jumped up, out of slapping range, with a chuckle.

Kurt didn’t even bother reacting much to that. “Wanker,” he grumbled under his breath, as he sat on the end of the lounger, crossing his legs and moving into a more feminine posture. Even without the wig, make-up and dress, Kurt had the tiny mannerisms down that made his act so believable. 

“You’re really good at that, Kurt. You should work with me in movies.” Charlie actually seemed genuine in his comment.

It wasn’t the first friend from Vaudeville who had suggested this. “I sing and I do accents, Charlie. I don’t think silent movies are exactly the best place to showcase my talents.” 

Charlie shook his head. “You’re very expressive! Not just your face, but your body language.”

“Yeah, yeah… Let’s get on with this.” Kurt went back into his feminine pose.

One thing that could be said for Charlie was that he was very professional, and got down to work with real commitment. His posture changed too, making him seem smaller, awkward. He looked around with a more naïve gaze, and when it travelled over Kurt, he almost seemed to stagger slightly.

The actions made Kurt giggle a little, despite himself.

Charlie went on to playing a silly game of flirty looks, looking everywhere but at Kurt, and then giving him a direct look, blinking slowly like he was a bit entranced. He reached down and picked a tiny dandelion from a crack in the pavement near his feet, holding the poor, trampled flower towards Kurt. 

The bent stem couldn’t hold the golden head up, and the flower lilted to the side pathetically. Kurt couldn’t help but giggle at Charlie’s disappointed expression. 

“Are you trying to steal my man?” A low voice growled from behind Kurt.

Twisting around so fast he almost fell off his chair, Kurt couldn’t keep the grin off his face at seeing Blaine leaning against the fence. His curly hair was longer than it had been in New York, and he was wearing sunglasses with a light coloured casual suit. 

Jumping up, Kurt was standing right in front of him in a few seconds. “You’re really here? Really?” 

Blaine chuckled, taking off the sunglasses. “Yup, it’s really me.” 

Kurt grabbed him, hugging him tight. He wanted to do more, but being in public, they had to be careful. He settled for turning his face into Blaine’s neck, inhaling deeply, just taking him in. 

“Are you going to introduce us?” A British voice brought Kurt out of the hug, and he couldn’t stop grinning.

“Charlie, this is Blaine. Blaine, Charlie.” The men shook hands, measuring each other up with the firmness of their handshakes and eye contact. Charlie had known Kurt longer, but Blaine knew him better. 

Grabbing his notebooks and pencils, Charlie packed them into his bag. “Well, I hope you’ll be sticking around for a while, as I’d like to get to know you. But I’m going to make myself scarce now. You two have some catching up to do, I’m sure.” 

Kurt couldn’t dispute that, and he gave his friend a nod as he left. 

Blaine stepped close. “Is there somewhere we can be alone? I really want to kiss you hello properly.” 

His low voiced request went right through Kurt, and he grabbed Blaine’s hand, leaving his magazine, towel and other things behind. Pretty soon, they were in Kurt’s room and Blaine practically threw Kurt onto the bed before crawling over him. Their kisses were hard and deep, hungry. 

\---

Blaine chuckled as Kurt spooned behind him, pulling him close. "Have you noticed how much...um...hotter it is between us the last couple times?"

Stopping in his lazy kisses against Blaine's neck, Kurt gave him a little nip with his teeth. "Well, of course. I don't know about you, but I haven't been with anyone else. It's been months for me. Absence doesn't only affect the heart." He teasingly thrust against Blaine's ass.

"Maybe that's the key to 'us'." Blaine said quietly, like he was thinking to himself.

Kurt pulled on his shoulder until Blaine rolled onto his back. Brushing the curls off his forehead, Kurt gave him an inquiring look. "What do you mean?"

Blaine looked a little mischievous. "Maybe I should be away from you more often. Just come by for a wild weekend, here and there."

Kurt liked his playfulness, but wasn't too fond of the idea. "I don't know, Blaine. I don't think I could take you coming and going like that."

"What if we took out the uncertainty? I went away, but you knew when I was coming back?" Blaine was looking more serious now; his hazel eyes searching Kurt's.

Feeling a bit confused, Kurt tried to think of living like that. "What do you have in mind?"

"I have news. I was going to write to you about it, but decided to come out here instead. I wanted to discuss it, face to face." He looked excited, and Kurt felt honored that Blaine wanted to share his big news with him.

Kurt squeezed his hand. "Tell me!"

Blaine sat up, the sheet pooling in his lap. "I got a book deal."

Out of all the things Blaine could have said, this was not anything Kurt had expected. "A book deal...?"

Laughing at Kurt's confused expression, Blaine gave him a quick peck on the lips, clearly excited and happy. "You look too cute like that."

"Come on, Anderson. Details, please. You're killing me here."

Blaine hugged his bent knees. "When I left the circuit last year, I travelled around a fair bit, and I ended keeping in touch with Jimmy. We'd write about the places we had been, and he kept commenting about how much he liked my letters. Said I was a good writer."

Kurt nodded. Jimmy and Blaine had certainly grown close while Blaine was in vaudeville, doing small trips together so often.

"Well, after Christmas, I sold most of my old stuff at the hotel and with my savings, I had enough for a car. I travelled even more then, and I kept a detailed journal about it. An old family friend in New York is on publishing, so I sent them an excerpt and they loved it." Blaine grinned as he finished.

It made sense, but it was amazing that Blaine had even thought if doing it. "So, you describe your travels in the book?"

"It's actually more of a guidebook for automobile travellers. You know that the roads aren't very well marked and very twisty. So, I give very detailed directions. But also interesting information about the area and it's history. There's even a section on getting yourself out of trouble."

Kurt reached over and gave Blaine a long hug. "I love it. It suits you perfectly and I can see you are really excited about it."

There was something different in Blaine, in the way he carried himself, in the directness of the way he spoke. He was a man who knew himself better now, knew his abilities and felt confident in them. It was very, very attractive.

He was truly happy to see Blaine like this. Busy in his own venture, doing what he loved. But would it work for them? Blaine would be travelling for his job, and Kurt moved around a lot too, as he got offers.

Taking Kurt's hand, Blaine caught his gaze, looking intense. "How much longer is your run?"

"Well, it got extended until the end of July. Ticket sales have been good." Kurt had been surprised at the popularity of the show.

Blaine squeezed his hand. "Perfect. Well, I was thinking of covering Southern California. Maybe, if it's OK with you, I could use this as a home base and travel from here? I'd probably be back at least once a week for a night or two."

Kurt smiled at the thought. "So, I'm going to see you every week for the summer?"

"Do you think we could make this work, Kurt? I know it's kind of crazy, but you are who I want to be with whenever I can be. You're home to me, where ever you are." Blaine's eyes were full of his feelings, afraid of being hurt but bravely putting himself out there.

Kurt bit his lip, thinking about it. Could he take only seeing Blaine, being with Blaine, sporadically? But what were the other options? Never seeing him at all, or trying to get him to be a part of whatever Kurt was doing, and be unfulfilled?

This way, Blaine and Kurt could follow their dreams, do what they love, and be together when they could.

Feeling a little scared, a little nervous, Kurt gave a small nod. "I think it could work, Blaine. We would be together when we can be, and write letters to each other when we can't be together."

Blaine cuddled closer. "It could be very romantic, writing each other love letters. And then when we are together..." His voice dropped, and his dark eyes were on Kurt's mouth.

Licking his lips, Kurt felt the kick of arousal at how Blaine watched him. Leaning closer, he pushed Blaine down flat on the bed, pushing a leg between his and lying down. Kissing and biting along Blaine's neck. The chemistry between them was still strong, as strong as that first night in Paris.

\---

Kurt’s eyes prickled with tears as the curtain came down for the last time, and he rubbed a finger below his eye to capture the moisture before it wrecked his make-up. Taking a deep breath, he turned to his co-stars, and they walked off stage, arm in arm. 

In his dressing room, Kurt took off his wig and make-up, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Proud that the play had been well received and had a long run. Sad that this was the last show, and soon he wouldn’t be seeing the people he had worked with so intensely the last few months. It was the nature of the business, and he frequently ran into people he had worked with in the past, but it was hard to keep close friendships up when you moved around so often.

There was a knock on the door, and Kurt glanced down. He was still in full costume, the dress, the corset, the heels. It looked funny with his short hair and clean face. Shrugging, Kurt went to the door. 

“Blaine!” Kurt opened the door wider, very shocked. “But you were in San Diego… you couldn’t come…”

Strong arms were wrapping around him tight, lifting him off the floor slightly in enthusiasm. The door slammed shut behind them with a firm kick from his boyfriend. “I couldn’t stay away. I rushed to finish up my work so I could watch your final performance. You were incredible.” 

Pulling back, Kurt blinked fast, looking into his warm hazel eyes. Cupping his cheek, Kurt leaned in to kiss those full lips, feeling his heart thumping, feeling a bit out of breath. He didn’t care, going in for kiss after kiss, never getting enough.

Chuckling, Blaine eased away, his hands cupping Kurt’s upper arms. “Let’s get you out of this corset before you pass out.” He turned Kurt around, his fingers quickly undoing the dress and lifting it off. He passed it to Kurt and went to work loosening the tight laces of the corset, and Kurt was able to breath fully again.

With a grateful look, Kurt slipped behind the screen in the corner and changed into his new suit. It was a dark charcoal grey, in a fine material tailored to his slim frame. He walked to the mirror to tie the blue tie, and fix his hair, conscious the whole time of Blaine watching him with an appreciative eye.

Turning around, Blaine was right there. Kurt sat on the edge of his make-up table, and put his hands on Blaine’s waist to tug him closer. Standing between Kurt’s legs, Blaine tilted Kurt’s chin up, his smile wide and happy. “You know I just want to take you back to the hotel, but what do you want? Is there a wrap party? Do you want to get a late supper?” He had been around performers enough to know the strange hours they kept.

Kurt smiled at his consideration. “I am a little hungry. The cast and crew are meeting at a nearby restaurant for a late meal. Would that be OK?” 

Blaine nodded. They both straightened their clothes, and checked that they weren’t too obviously mussed up. 

\---

Back at the hotel, Kurt smiled to himself as he unlocked the door, and then took Blaine’s hand to lead him inside. How many hotel rooms had they shared in the last couple years? All those cheap places on the vaudeville circuit, with drafty windows and peeling paint. Kurt was doing better these days, staying in nicer hotels that offered reasonable long-term rates. 

The tension that had built all evening had them quickly stripping now, eyes hungry on each other in the dim light streaming in from a streetlight. Down to his underwear, Kurt chuckled when Blaine basically tackled him, landing breathless on the bed with this wonderful man on top of him. Kissing, touching, eager for everything. Desire rushed through Kurt, easily matching Blaine’s intensity, and his hands pulled at his remaining clothes until they were naked together. Finally.

Every time it was like this. Flirting and teasing in their letters to each other. Subtle hints at what they wanted to do next time. Days of pondering the sexy suggestions, feelings building, tension bubbling up while they both counted the days until they could be together again. 

Kurt hadn’t been expecting Blaine to be back in LA for a couple more days. That he had rushed to share Kurt’s closing night made him feel cherished. And he wasn’t afraid to show his appreciation for it.

Blaine’s groans were so good to hear, and Kurt couldn’t help but grin against his skin as he kissed his way up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. His hands kept stroking, keeping Blaine on the edge, writhing under Kurt’s teasing lips and tongue. Tonight, he wanted to taste every inch of his skin. Wanted Blaine to moan his name, ragged and a bit desperate. Nipped hard enough at his skin to make him jump, and a bright red mark appeared. Kurt kissed it reverently, proud, and thought _Mine._ And the thought warmed him, spreading outward.

\---

Sated, wrapped tight together, Blaine nuzzled against Kurt’s shoulder. “You really haven’t tanned that much, being in California all these months.” 

Spreading a hand out over Blaine’s forearm, Kurt could see the contrast, even in the dim light coming in from the street. “You have been travelling around with the top down, for hours and hours most days. If I’m outside, I’m usually under a big umbrella.” 

“Except for your mornings on the beach. Will you show me your special spot? I want to see it before we go.” Blaine asked, tilting his face up to Kurt’s.

Nodding, Kurt leaned closer to kiss Blaine lightly. “Yes, I’d like that. Tomorrow morning?” 

Blaine agreed and snuggled in closer, both of them soon drifting off to sleep.

\---

The beach was still mostly deserted at the early hour of the morning. Kurt held Blaine’s hand as they walked, waves swirling around their ankles. “I am truly going to miss this. I really love the ocean.” 

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand. “It’s so beautiful and peaceful. I understand. But I think when you look hard enough, you can find beautiful places where ever you go.”

Looking back at Blaine, Kurt could see how the last few years had changed him. He had gone from a sheltered rich boy, to a man who had travelled all over the country, seeing so many things, making his own way. “You know, I see things differently when we are together. I travelled a lot with Vaudeville, but seeing how curious you get about the places we went makes me look at things with fresh eyes.”

“Philadelphia is next. I know you’ve toured through there several times, but did you ever really explore it?” Blaine had already planned many things he wanted to see firsthand. 

Kurt shook his head. Staying a few months in one place was a lot different than a few hasty days. The demands of Vaudeville travel were tiring, and his energies had mostly been directed towards his performances. “I saw the Liberty Bell with Melanie.” 

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Well, we won’t run out of things to check out.” 

They reached Kurt’s rock, and he climbed on top, dangling his feet off the side to make room for Blaine to settle beside him. Occasional waves splashed their lower legs. Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine, tugging him close and leaning his head against his shoulder. 

“Are you really OK with coming out to Philadelphia with me, Blaine? I don’t want it to be like before when you were on the Vaudeville tour, doing it only to be with me.” Kurt said it softly, looking out over the water. It was his deepest worry, and it was the scariest part of leaving California. Things had been working for them so well here. Would it work somewhere else, or would the old problems arise again?

Blaine let out a deep breath, taking Kurt’s right hand in his to play with his fingers. “I think so, Kurt. Now that you are staying in the same spot for a few months at a time, it works well with my work. I have time to thoroughly explore the area, making all my notes. My publisher wants me eventually to have books out for all the major cities, and those are likely ones you will work in, sooner or later.” 

Kurt put a hand on Blaine’s cheek, turning his face to his, and searched his eyes. “As long as you are doing what is best for your career too. There will likely be times when I’ll go back to a city you’ve already covered.”

“Well, then there might be times when we are apart more often. Maybe we’ll just have to hop on a train to meet in the middle for a day or two, if we are working in different areas. Write more letters.” Blaine said, his eyes calm.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Kurt just shook his head. “Will that work?” 

Blaine chuckled. “We were apart for most of a year, and I think we were able to handle it. I want to try. Do you?” 

Kurt meet Blaine’s warm hazel eyes, so full of caring. With all they had been through, he was still here, holding Kurt’s hand and wanting to try for a future, together. Knowing they would have challenges, but willing to face them. Willing to give Kurt another chance. So brave. So wonderful. “Yes, I do.” Kurt’s voice wasn’t too steady as he said the words, and Blaine squeezed his hand in support. 

Blaine looked incredibly happy. He leaned down and kissed their clasped hands. "I still carry a piece of your mothers silk scarf with me every day. It started to fall apart, being in my pocket, no matter how carefully I washed it. So I sipped a piece off and put it into a metal business card holder." He pulled out the slim case from his breast pocket, and showed Kurt the tattered scrap of silk inside, before tucking it back into it's place.

Kurt smiled at that. He reached for his pocket watch, opening it to gaze down at Blaine's initials. "I still look at your initials every time I open this." He brushed a finger lovingly over the worn engraving, and it took him back to that Saturday night on Titanic. Lighting a candle together, making their vows.

Taking a deep breath, Blaine let it out slowly, his eyes on Kurt's. "I love you, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, and I swear this oath today to do everything I can to support our love. I will love and cherish you, do everything within my power to bring you joy and happiness. The love we share will carry on, forever, even if we must part, from time to time." He spoke from the heart, knowing that Kurt meant everything to him now.

Kurt was blinking back tears, and it was making Blaine's eyes dampen as well. Blaine repeating his vow with those little changes...it made his heart squeeze tight in his chest. He scrambled to remember the words he had spoken over two years ago.

"I love you, Blaine Devon Anderson. I will do everything under my power to honor our bond. Feed it with kind thoughts and tender kisses. I will love and cherish you, thank the lucky stars that have brought us together, and make your happiness my ultimate goal. Our love will carry on, even if we must part, from time to time." His voice wobbled a bit at the end, but he was able to complete his oath.

As he said it, he felt like the words struck a chord deep inside. They just felt right. They worked for who they were now.

\---

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading this story right to the end! It has taken a while to get here, but I've enjoyed exploring the history of 1912-1914 and figuring out how the boys would fit into that time. 

Fun Facts:

Great Salt Lake, Utah: This large lake in northern Utah has three rivers feeding into it, but no outlet except evaporation. This makes it very high in salt, far saltier than seawater, making swimming feel like floating. Ocean water has salinity around 3.5%, and this lake ranges between 5-27%, varying widely depending on water levels. There are industries that extract salt (for water softeners and icy roads), potassium sulphate (for fertilizer) and magnesium (14% of the world's supply), and brine shrimp and their eggs (cysts).  
  
Saltair: It was a resort built on the southern shore of the Great Salt Lake in 1893, on 2000 posts and pilings. The three story pavilion had moorish onion domes and ornate archways, with 600 bathhouses for swimmers to change in before experiencing the warm, salty water. After a day of swimming, crowds converged in the pavilion's huge dance hall and restaurants. Regular trains shuttled people back and forth. It burned down in 1925, and replaced by an even larger resort. It was destroyed by fire in 1970, and a third incarnation of the resort exists now, but in a location closer to the highway.

Charlie Chaplin: He was born in England in 1889. As a boy, he was in a production of Sherlock Holmes that went on three nation-wide tours, and worked for years in music halls. At the age of 17, he joined the juvenile act Casey's Circus, where he developed popular burlesque pieces and was soon the star of the show. A couple years later, he joined Fred Jarmo, getting lead roles fairly soon, and touring the US for a couple years, to great success. By September 1913, he was offered a film contract, and started filming short films in January 1914. By 1919, he was a superstar, and started United Artists film studio with Mary Pickford, DW Griffith, and Douglas Fairbanks, to have complete control over their own movies.  
  
In this story, Kurt worked with him in music halls when he was in England with Paul. Kurt was around 18-19 years old, and Charlie was 16-17. In 1914, when Charlie was starting his film career, he was 25, and Kurt was 27. 


End file.
